Time After Time
by cindy123
Summary: A long time ago, there was a magician...an evil magician. Now, the magician is back, and he wants Sam, but he doesn't count on two very protective older brothers who will let nothing stand in their way when it comes to taking care of their baby brother.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Gosh, has it been that long? I know, I know! Sheesh...I didn't even know if I would remember how to post a story. For real...I had a hard time. Anyway, ritsam sent me this plot bunny for a new 3 Brothers story. It's a little different than what I'm used to writing so please be easy on me. I have three chapters completed at this point...not sure how many chapters there will be. This one is mostly just our three boys, but we will see John and maybe a few others later on. I hope you all enjoy.**

**Cindy**

TIME AFTER TIME

_May 1, 1904-San Francisco, California_

The magician paced behind the drawn curtain, his dark cape flapping out behind him as he muttered furiously to himself. "_It has to be soon…it has to be soon," _he whispered over and over. Finally he stopped, a sudden urge to peek out at the waiting crowd coming over him. He walked to the slit in the curtain and carefully pulled it ever so slightly apart. An easel held his sign…_**The Magnificent Manfredo**__ – the most extraordinary magician you have ever laid eyes upon! _He snorted to himself as his eyes swept over the crowd. "_Soon…very soon, I will be the best to ever wear the cape," _he murmured. He felt anger as he looked over the small gathering of people. The numbers of visitors had steadily declined until the most he would see on a good day was twenty, maybe twenty five. That would all change once he had what he needed. He would no longer be just another good magician. No, once he found the right one, he would be the best the world had ever seen. The best it would ever see again. He was just about to pull back when suddenly his heart leapt in his chest. _"There!" _he cried to himself as his dark eyes landed on someone in the crowd. It was obvious that the young man was tall despite the fact that he was seated. He had chocolate brown hair that was longer and shaggier than one would expect from someone so well dressed. He was not from the poorer areas of town, that much the magician could tell. No, he came from money, but money wasn't what interested the magician. What interested him was the young man's age. He looked to be the right age and since the magician was drawn to him, it had to be fate that brought the young man to his show this day.

The magician stepped back, his heart racing as a plan began to form in his mind. He readied himself for his performance then gracefully whisked the curtains open and stepped forward onto the stage. The small crowd began to clap as the magician made a sweeping bow before them. He stood straight and glanced over at the young man. He smiled when their gazes met…dark brown, almost black eyes to soft hazel ones. He reluctantly pulled his gaze away and addressed the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen…children of all ages," he called in a deep voice that resonated through the auditorium. "I am The Magnificent Manfredo! Prepare yourselves for a spectacle of such you have never seen! Prepare to be amazed!"

The magician began his show and through all of the ohs and ahs he kept one eye upon the young man with shaggy hair. Finally, the time had come to perform his last illusion. He stood tall and proud on the stage and swept his eyes over the growing crowd. "I need someone from the audience to perform my final act. Who will that someone be?" he suddenly called and a few tentative hands went up in the crowd. He ignored those hands then turned his gaze onto the young man. He held out his hand and bowed in the boy's direction. "Will you be so brave as to come up onto the stage, young master?" he asked as he straightened.

The young man glanced nervously around himself, his face reddening when he found all eyes upon him. He turned to meet he magician's eyes and nodded. He made his way slowly to the stage and climbed the wooden steps. The magician smiled as the young man approached him, his heart beating madly in his chest. He was so close he could taste the victory that lie ahead. He took the boy's hand and pulled him to the center of the stage.

"I can see that you are a brave young man. Strapping and strong too. Please tell me and these wonderful people your name," the Magnificent Manfredo said.

The young man looked over at the magician then out over the crowd. "Uh…I am Samuel…Samuel Anthony Worthington," he answered softly, shyly.

"Ah, Samuel! Asked of God is the meaning of your name…how delightful!" the magician called. "How old are you, Samuel?" he added.

"Tomorrow will be the 21st year since my birth, sir," Samuel replied.

The magician's heart fluttered. He had no time to waste if he were to gain what he sought. At the stroke of midnight all would be lost. He needed a man of the age of twenty, nobody else would do. A murmur went up in the crowd as the magician became lost in his thoughts. He shook his head and smiled toward the audience. "Twenty years old…the perfect age I must say. Please stand here, Samuel while I prepare for the final act of magic," he said before moving back behind the curtain. A moment later he reappeared with a deep purple colored velvet cover draped over his arm. He positioned Samuel in the middle of the stage then he turned to address the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in this world, beyond what we can see and touch is a second dimension. Only the most skilled and knowledgeable of magicians have seen it. Today, young Samuel will see it too. For today, as a gift for his impending birthday, I will send him there instead of myself," the Magnificent Manfredo called.

A nervous, yet excited murmur swept through the crowd. Samuel shuffled fearfully as the magician moved behind him. With a sudden flourish, the magician flipped open the cover and draped it over the young man's body. He stood behind the boy and, hidden from the audience's view, suddenly plunged a needle into the unsuspecting victim's neck. The young man tried to cry out, but the effects of the drug he was given worked instantly, quieting his voice against his will. His mind began to float as he felt the magician move to his side. He could hear the crowd, but he could not move nor speak. Suddenly, the magician's voice boomed beside him.

"And now, before your eyes, I will send young Samuel to the second dimension!" the Magnificent Manfredo called. "Don't worry, he will not be harmed and he will be returned safely to our stage in a few moments time!" he added as the murmuring grew louder.

The magician took a step away from Samuel's covered body then lifted one corner of the cover. He placed his toe over the hidden button in the floor and turned toward the young man. With words no one in the crowd had heard before he suddenly whisked the cover away while at the same time pushing down on the hidden button, opening a trap door in the floor that immediately closed when he shifted his foot. The crowd cried out in amazement when once the cover was gone, only the Magnificent Manfredo remained on the stage. Samuel Worthington was nowhere to be seen. The magician smiled as he turned and addressed the audience.

"I will now bring young Samuel back and then he will tell you of the wonders of the second dimension. I must have complete silence so please hold back your voices until I tell you it is alright to speak again," the magician said.

The Magnificent Manfredo held the velvet cover over the spot where Samuel had stood and began to chant again. The crowd seemed to hold its breath as it awaited the miraculous return of the missing boy. There was complete silence, save for the voice of the magician. On his last word, the magician pulled the cover away to…reveal nothing. No tall young man had reappeared. A murmur went up in the crowd, but it quickly rose to alarmed cries. The magician feigned innocence as he faced the crowd and put his hands up to silence them.

"Please good people, do not be afraid. There is nothing to be concerned about. Please lower your voices and I will say the incantation again," the Magnificent Manfredo called. He once again pulled the cover up to conceal the empty spot on the stage and began to chant again. Again, the crowd cried out when the young man did not return.

"Where is he!? What have you done with him!?" a man called out as he shot up from his seat and glared angrily at the magician.

"I can assure you I have done nothing to the young man. It is possible he finds the second dimension more appealing than ours and is fighting the pull to come back," the magician defended. "If you all will please leave the auditorium in a quick and quiet fashion then I can concentrate my efforts to bring him back. He will not be able to resist coming back forever."

"We will not leave! You have him hidden somewhere…bring him back now!" a woman shouted.

The magician stared out over the frightened and angry crowd then suddenly dashed for the side of the stage. He ripped the curtains shut then sped toward the back of the building. By the time the first of the audience made it up onto the stage, the magician was gone. Several men ran to the back searching for the magician while others scoured the stage looking for a way in which the young man could have disappeared. They searched fervently where Samuel had been standing, but none could find the hidden button and trap door. The men searching the back of the auditorium finally found the back door and burst out into the alleyway, just missing the wagon that turned the corner out of view a few seconds before.

The magician stared longingly down at his sleeping prisoner, his body trembling with excitement at what was to come. All of the ingredients were at hand, the incantation memorized. All he needed was for the boy to awaken and then he would begin. Soon, he would be the greatest magician in the world. He would be the greatest magician in history…past and future. His eyes saddened for a moment as he gazed upon the young man's innocent face. In order for him to attain his lofty goal, the boy had to die. He had never killed anyone before and he wasn't exactly happy about having to do it now, but he would be a gift to the world. What would this boy be? Just another spoiled rich kid looking down on those less fortunate than himself? _"Most likely,"_ the magician thought as he cleared any guilty feelings from his head. He had no way of knowing that this boy, either in this life or his next, would be instrumental in saving the world and even if he did, the magician would never turn back. He'd worked too hard to find the ritual…had traveled the country in search of the perfect sacrifice. His search had brought him to San Francisco where he had found this young man. He was convinced it was fate, that he was meant to do what was about to transpire.

The magician stepped back from the table on which the young man lie and smiled. "I will be back soon, young Samuel," he whispered as he walked from the candle lit room and shut the door behind him. He turned the key in the lock then moved quickly and silently down the long, dark hallway. He descended the sweeping staircase of the large house he had procured then headed to the back of the house and out the back door. A large hole had been dug in the garden, a garden large enough to fit a grown man, and the magician headed for that hole. When he reached it, he knelt down beside it then glanced up at the window of the room that held the sacrifice. He turned back to the hole after a few moments then pulled a small pouch from his pocket. Inside were various herbs and other ingredients meant to keep the dead from coming back to seek revenge upon the living. He had acquired the herbs, and the knowledge of the ritual he would soon perform from a hoodoo priestess in Louisiana. The magician opened up the pouch and carefully sprinkled the contents over the bottom of the grave. He smiled as he pushed to his feet and stood straight and proud. In one hours time he would be king of the magicians. He giggled insanely to himself as he walked back toward the large house. Soon his dream would be a reality and the world would have one less rich snob to worry about.

x

Samuel groaned as he came to, his hazel eyes blinking slowly in the candle light as they adjusted to the dim light. "What?" the young man whispered as he rolled his head and squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where am I?" he further asked as he carefully sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the hard table he was on. He lifted his hand to back of his neck and hissed when his fingers found the spot where the needle had pierced his skin. His eyes widened as memories flooded his brain. The magician, the crowd with all eyes on him, the sudden pain and then the inability to speak or move. He remembered the floor falling out beneath him, the pain as he crashed into the dirt floor beneath the stage. He remembered the muffled voice of the magician above him then the sound of running feet. Then he was being hauled across the floor, his body unable to put up a fight. He was dragged from under the stage and out into the cool night then hoisted up into the back of a waiting wagon. He remembered watching the stars as the wagon began to move and the sounds of shouts as they turned onto a dimly lit street. Then everything went black and he remembered nothing more.

Samuel eased himself off of the table and as quickly as his weak, shaky legs could carry him, he moved to the door. He tried the knob and nearly cried when he found that he was locked in. Shaking his head and telling himself to stop being a baby, he hurried to the window, but found that it too was locked. He looked out of the window and sighed in frustration. Even if he could open the window, the drop to the ground would either kill him or break both his legs. He was about to turn away when something caught his eye. Out about thirty feet from the house was a large garden and knelt down in the middle of the garden was the magician. Samuel's eyes widened when he realized what the man was knelt next to. It appeared to be a grave and suddenly the young man knew that if he didn't get out of this room, he was going to die. He rushed back to the door and grabbed at the doorknob again. He frantically began to pull at the door, but it would not budge. He stepped back and began to pat himself down, hoping to find something, anything in his pockets that would help him get the door open. Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway outside the room. He searched for a place to hide, a plan already forming in his genius brain. He moved to the side of the door opposite the knob and pressed himself against the wall. He heard a key being inserted into the lock then the door slowly swung open. The magician stepped inside and as soon as he was clear of the door and before he could comprehend that his sacrifice was no longer on the table, Samuel lunged forward and drove his hands into the center of the magician's back. The magician tumbled to the floor with a loud grunt, the wind temporarily knocked out of him and Samuel immediately went for the open door.

The magician cried out when he realized that his prisoner was escaping. He quickly gained his feet and ran for the door. If the young man got away, all would be lost. He could always look for another sacrifice, but that could take years and besides, if the young man got away he would lead others back to the house and the magician would be caught and killed on the spot. The magician ran into the hall and saw the young man as he headed for the staircase. He wasted no time in going after the boy. He finally caught up to his captive at the head of the staircase, the magician thanking his lucky stars that the boy had not yet fully regained his strength. He reached out and caught the young man by the collar of his shirt, but the magician wasn't expecting the boy to fight back, so when he turned around and grabbed him by the arms, the magician was caught off guard. Samuel screamed out as he jerked the magician around and slammed him into the wall. The magician lost his grip on Samuel's collar and when the young man released his arms, the magician grabbed for the railings when he felt the floor give way to the stairs. His hands just missed their target though and in seconds, the magician was falling, his head hitting the railing he had tried to grab hold of. His body rolled and bounced down the stairs until finally, he came to rest in a still heap at the middle landing, his right leg bent at an unnatural angle as blood pooled beneath his head.

Samuel stood in shocked silence at the top of the staircase, his hazel eyes wide as he stared down at the horrible sight. He slowly made his way to where the magician lay then knelt down beside him. The man's eyes were wide open, but no life appeared behind them. Samuel could tell that the magician was dead, but when he suddenly heard a faint whisper he had to lean in closer to see if it was the magician speaking. He reached out a trembling hand, but as soon as his fingers touched the man, the whispering stopped. He stood on shaky legs, the young man realizing he had to be hearing things. He moved around the magician's body and carefully descended the remaining stairs then as quickly as he could he left the house and the horror that lay inside behind.

x

_May 2, 1983-Lawrence Memorial Hospital – Lawrence, Kansas_

"You need to prepare yourselves," the old doctor explained as he stood at the bedside of his dying patient. "Your father and grandfather lived a long and happy life, but now it's his time to go."

The woman before the doctor nodded sadly then moved up beside the bed and looked down at the old man lying there. She took his hand in hers and patted it lovingly. "Well, papa, you wanted to live to be 100 and you got your wish," she whispered. The woman leaned over the bed and tenderly kissed the old man's cheek then turned her head and whispered into this ear, "Happy Birthday, Papa…now let go…it's time to be with your sweet Lucile."

The woman stood and smiled when a gentle hand took hers. She looked over then leaned her head against the man's shoulder. He kissed her head then looked down into the dulled eyes of the old man. "He's going to be with grandma now, Mom," he said softly.

"I know, David. I know."

The old man lay upon the bed, his eyes open as the machines beeped continually beside him. He wasn't seeing the hospital room, nor his daughter and grandson. No, he was seeing something that happened many years ago and halfway across the country. A lonely tear spilled over onto his cheek as the memory played itself out in his dying mind.

_Samuel ran as fast as his weak legs could carry him. The house was well out of town and he had a long journey, but he kept running. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he recalled what had happened to him and subsequently what happened to the magician. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he reached the city. He kept running through the streets until finally he came to a large mansion on the east end of town. He could see lights in the windows. He ran up to the grand front door and burst into the foyer. The foyer was filled with men, all talking at the same time, but when he appeared the room went silent and all eyes turned to him. One man stood out from the rest. He was tall, his shoulders wide, his hair dark as night. He had his back to the door, but when the other men fell silent, he turned and followed their gazes. His dark eyes widened when he saw the bedraggled young man standing in the doorway._

"_Samuel?" the man called as he moved toward the young man. "Oh, thank God."_

_The man rushed toward Samuel and pulled him into his arms. "I thought I had lost you forever," he whispered into the young man's ear. "What happened to you?"_

_Samuel hugged around the man then finally pulled away. He looked into the man's dark eyes and sighed. "I am sorry I scared you, Father," he said softly._

"_Oh, Samuel, do not apologize. Just tell me what happened. Where did the magician take you? Are you alright?" the man asked, his voice filled with concern._

"_He…he drugged me and then…the floor gave way. I fell to a chamber beneath the stage floor. He dragged me out and put me in a wagon. He took me to the large house outside of town…"_

"_You mean the abandoned one? The old Jamieson place?" one man in the foyer asked._

"_Yes," Samuel answered._

"_Then what? What did he do to you?" Samuel's father asked, his hands ghosting over the young man, obviously looking for injuries. When he was satisfied his son was okay, he stepped back._

"_He…he had a grave dug in the garden. I think he meant to kill me. I woke in a room…lying upon a table. I didn't think about it at the time, but I saw a table by the wall…it…it had jars and bowls on it…and black candles. I don't know what his intentions were, but…"_

"_How did you get away, my son?"_

"_I couldn't get out…I was locked in. Then…he came. I stood behind the door and when he entered the room, I pushed him down onto the floor and I ran. He caught up with me at the top of the staircase, but I…I…"_

_Samuel's father stepped forward and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's alright, son…you are safe now. Just tell me what happened."_

"_I grabbed him and…he lost his footing. He fell down the stairs to the landing. He…he's dead, father. I killed him. He's still there," the young man said with regret in his voice._

"_You did what you had to do. He took you against your will. He deserved to die," Samuel's father said._

"_But…I will be tried for murder…"_

"_No! There was no murder committed. You protected yourself…"_

"_But, Father…"_

"_Do not argue with me, Samuel. Now go up and see your mother. She is sick with worry and has not left her bed ever since we received word of your kidnapping."_

"_What will you do, Father? We need to summon the police…"_

"_My men and I will go to the house and dispose of the vile man. You will tell the police that the magician took you, but that you escaped and the matter will be forgotten. Now go, boy."_

"_I'm going with you, Father."_

"_No…you have been through enough. You…"_

"_I have to see for myself that he is really dead. I have to be there…please, Father," Samuel pleaded, hazel eyes wide as he gazed at his father._

_Samuel's father sighed. He could never deny his son, especially when he looked at him the way he was at this moment. Not that his son was demanding, nor spoiled. No, Samuel was quite the opposite. He had a kind and generous nature and always had his nose buried in a book it seemed. He always put others before himself, even the little ruffians who stole apples from their orchards. The man smiled as he nodded toward his son. _

"_Fine, you may go with us, but you stay at my side at all times. I will not have any other harm come to you this night," the man said._

"_Thank you, Father," Samuel said._

_The group of men rode out into the night and within the hour they were standing over the body of the magician where it still lay on the landing of the staircase. A priest stood over the body, a bible in hand. The priest silently prayed as he sprinkled holy water over the corpse. A few men suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and peered down at the group below. Samuel and his father looked up and met their gazes._

"_What did you find?" Samuel's father asked._

"_We found the room, Mr. Worthington. It looks like…I don't know…some sort of voodoo or witchcraft or something of that nature," one man called._

_Samuel's father thought for a moment then looked back up at the men. "Leave everything as it is. Let the police sort it out. Come down and help us move the body to the basement. We can't take the chance of burying it outside. We'll bury it in the wall where no one will find it," he commanded._

_The men nodded and hurried down the stairs. Once the priest was finished, they joined two of the other men present and lifted the man from the floor. They descended the stairs with the magician's body between them and disappeared from sight. Samuel's father turned to the other men._

"_Clean this blood from the floorboards. I want no trace left behind," he instructed._

"_Yes, sir," the men said as they immediately went to work._

"_Father…shouldn't he have a decent burial? He…"_

"_He was a heathen…he was using dark magic, Samuel. He does not deserve the rites Father O'Niell just gave to him and he does not deserve a burial any better than what he is getting."_

"_Charles, I think young Samuel is right. To bury him in this way can only bring trouble in the future. We need to give him a Christian burial to keep his soul…"_

"_His soul is black as night! He will be buried in the walls of this cursed house and that is all there is to say about this!"_

"_He…I am sure I heard him whisper something, father. I thought I was hearing things, but I am not so sure now. He must not have been dead at first," Samuel said pleadingly._

"_He could not have survived long enough to whisper anything, Samuel. You were scared and had just been through an ordeal. You were hearing things," Charles said calmly._

"_But…I killed him, father. I didn't mean to…I just wanted to get free. He is dead because of me."_

"_And you should not feel guilt for that. He meant to kill you…for whatever dark purposes he had. He deserved to die. Now, I will hear no more about this matter." _

_Samuel watched as his father quickly descended the stairs then turned to Father O'Niell. "No good can come from this, Father. What can we do?" he asked fearfully._

_Father O'Niell stepped toward the young man and smiled warmly. "I think that your father may be correct, Samuel. Dark magic was at work this night, but good prevailed. I did what I could to cleanse the dark soul. Just forget about this night and move on. You are a good man, Samuel…you did nothing wrong…in the eyes of man or God."_

_Samuel sighed then nodded at the priest. Together they descended the steps and left the house. They waited for the others to come out and when they did, Samuel gazed expectantly at his father._

"_It is done," Charles said as he mounted his horse and rode away._

x

A steady beep sounded as the old man's eyes closed for the last time in his long life. His daughter and grandson wept as the doctor called the time of death of Samuel Anthony Worthington. After many minutes the doctor and nurses left the room to the grieving family. Mother and son approached the bed and looked sadly down at the still form that lie there.

"Mom, what do you think he meant?" the son asked.

"What are you talking about?" answered the mother.

"When he whispered _'it is done'_…what do you think he meant?"

"I don't know, Tony. I don't know what he meant."

x

_Meanwhile, in another ward of the hospital_

"Push, Mary! You're doing good…just one more push!" the doctor called from behind his mask.

"Oh, God, John…it hurts!"

"I know it does, but it's almost over…just one good push and our son will finally be here."

"Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"He's here…you did good, Mary," the doctor said as he pulled the red little body into his arms.

"He isn't crying! Why isn't he crying!?"

"Just give him a second," the doctor replied, and as if on cue, the baby started to wail at the top of his tiny little lungs.

The doctor stood and moved around the bed. He gently set the baby in his mother's arms and smiled as mother and son began to bond. He looked up at the dark eyes of the father and nodded. "Do you have a name yet?" the doctor asked.

"Uh…Mary?"

"Samuel. Samuel Anthony Winchester."

John cocked his head and looked into his wife's blue eyes. "I thought you weren't going to name him after your father," he said.

"I don't know…it just suddenly came to me just now. I want to name him Samuel," Mary said with a tired smile on her pretty face.

"Samuel Anthony Winchester it is then," John said proudly as he turned his gaze to his tiny son. "Hey, little Sammy…you're going to have the best life, I promise you that. Your brothers are going to love you so much, just like I already do," he whispered as he tenderly stroked the baby's cheek.

Mary smiled as she pulled her newborn son up and lovingly kissed his head. "Our family is complete, John," she whispered softly as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

**Well, that is the first chapter. This story has taken a very long time to get the three chapters done that I have completed so...it may take some time inbetween postings. Please be patient with me. Thanks for reading.**

**Cindy**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I have to say...it's so good to be back! I've been pleasantly surprised by the response and am so happy that I didn't seem to lose any readers in my long absense! Thank you all for reading and taking the time to comment on the story. And now...onto chapter 2!**

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_May 24, 2003 – Palo Alto, California_

The sleek, black car rumbled loudly as it came to a stop at the curb in front of a three story building. The two occupants swung the doors open with a squeaky flourish and dragged themselves from the front seat. The driver, tall and slender with medium brown hair glanced over the roof of the car at the passenger as the shorter young man stood and stretched his arms above his head. The driver smirked as the other man groaned as he stretched.

"You're getting old, Deano!" the driver called with a chuckle.

The other man turned and gave the driver a one finger salute, his green eyes narrowed as he glared across the car. "You'll always be older than me, Danny…don't ever forget that," he groused as he turned and stepped up onto the sidewalk.

Daniel laughed out loud then made his way around the car to join his brother. Both young men turned their gazes to glass doors on the front of the building before them. "Where is the little shit?" Dean asked as his eyes moved up the side of the building.

Daniel patted Dean's shoulder before leaning back against the Impala and crossing his arms over his chest. "He'll be down in a minute. Quit being so impatient, old man," he said with a grin.

"I'm 24, dude," Dean said, a scowl marring his handsome face as he turned to face his brother.

"Yeah? Well, you act like you're 84 sometimes. Too much partying, if you ask me," Daniel retorted, his eyes suddenly moving past his brother to the building. He smiled wide as the door pushed open and a tall, shaggy haired young man stepped out into the sunlight.

Dean turned and followed his brother's gaze, his scowl turning into a smile as he spotted his baby brother strolling toward them. "Sammy! Bout damn time you decided to come down!" he called as he watched the young man approach.

"Well, if you guys had given me a bit more notice that you were coming, I'd have been ready," Sam responded as he grabbed his brother in a tight hug.

Dean hugged back, patting the younger man on the back, before he pulled away and allowed his older brother access to the youngest. He waited for Daniel to pull away from Sam before he stepped forward and slapped Sam on the shoulder. "What's the big deal anyway, princess? Your classes ended last week. We'd have come then if you hadn't blown us off," he said with a cock of his head.

"I told you, Dean. I had an extra class I had to finish up with," Sam said as he pulled the back door of the Impala open and tossed his duffel bag onto the seat.

Dean shook his head as he glanced over at Daniel, who merely shrugged and smiled as he turned his gaze upon his baby brother. "Only you would take on extra classes and stay later into your break, Sammy," Dean said with mock disgust.

"Dean, you know why I took that class. I…"

"You wanted to be close to that pretty little blonde…I know," Dean interrupted. He grinned when he looked over and saw his older brother scowling at him.

"No…I didn't even know she was in the class when I signed up for it. I took it because it counts toward my requirements and this way I won't have as many classes this fall, when the classes I do have to take will be harder," Sam explained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…I've heard it all before. It has nothing to do with Jennifer, or Jeannie…or whatever her name is."

"Jessica, Dean…her name is Jessica, and no, it has nothing to do with her," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"Where is the little hottie anyway?" Dean asked, his green eyes sweeping over the nearly deserted campus.

Sam rolled his eyes as he turned toward his brother. "She left three days ago…went home for the summer," he answered.

"Oh, so like everyone else, she went home, but you…you wanted to stick around a little longer huh? You're such a geek," Dean said.

"Dean, quit teasing Sam," Daniel said with a grin.

Sam smiled over at his eldest brother then turned back to Dean. "I had some things I wanted to get taken care of so I wouldn't have to worry about them over the break. That's…"

"That's why we didn't call you until we were nearly here. This way, you had to pack up and get your ass out of here," Dean said.

"Well, I finished up what I wanted to last night anyway…just didn't expect a call at 7 in the morning telling me to 'get your crap packed…we'll be there in 15'," Sam quoted as he smacked Dean on the back.

"Only way to get you moving, bitch. We have places to go, people to see, sins to commit."

Sam shook his head then turned and met Daniel's gaze. "So, where are we going? Are we meeting up with Dad?" he asked.

Daniel moved around to the driver's door and rested his arms on the roof of the car. "Dad's on a hunt with Bobby over in Virginia. We probably won't see him for a few weeks at least. We thought since we missed your birthday, we'd take you up to San Francisco for a few days then start heading their way," Daniel answered.

At the mention of San Francisco, Sam felt a sudden feeling of dread wash over him. He liked San Francisco, had actually gone up there with his friends the weekend of his birthday, but ever since that weekend, whenever he heard mention of the city, he felt dread, maybe even a little fear. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened when he was there and the weekend had passed without incident, but still the feeling of dread was there. Sam was pulled from his thoughts by a nudge on his arm. He glanced over into the concerned eyes of his brother.

"What? Did you say something?" Sam asked softly.

"Where'd you go there, Sammy? You had this blank stare on your face," Dean replied as he took a small step toward his brother.

"Oh…uh…I guess I was just thinking…um…why San Francisco? Why don't we just head toward Virginia now?" Sam answered.

"Um, why not San Francisco?" Dean asked.

"No reason…just…I don't know…seems a bit out of the way if we're going to meet up with Dad in a few weeks."

"It'll be fine, kiddo," Daniel called from across the car. "We'll spend a few days there then head east. It'll be fun."

Sam looked over at his brother and smiled. "Yeah…it'll be fun," he said softly before ducking down and sliding into the back seat of the Impala. Daniel and Dean met each other's eyes and shrugged before they too got into the car. Three doors slammed shut then the roar of the engine filled the morning air. The car pulled away from the curb leaving the dorm to stand lonely sentinel over the deserted street.

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Dean glanced over his shoulder into the back seat of the Impala and smiled at his baby brother sleeping, his head resting on his bunched up jacket against the window. His smile faded somewhat as he took in the slight dark smudges under Sam's eyes. The kid looked thinner than the last time they'd seen him too and suddenly, the older brother felt concern creep over him. He turned his attention to his older brother and sighed. Daniel cast a quick glance his way before returning his gaze to the highway before him.

"What?" Daniel asked curiously.

"I…I don't know. It's Sammy…he…does he seem thinner to you?" Dean responded before sparing another glance into the back seat.

Daniel looked up into the rearview mirror at his baby brother's reflection. He frowned slightly then brought his eyes forward again. "Yeah, I guess he looks a little thinner, but…"

"And tired…he looks pretty tired. He's got bags under his eyes," Dean interrupted, his green eyes filled with concern as he stared over at his older brother.

"Well, Dean…he has been hitting the books pretty hard to get that last class finished. He's probably just not been eating or sleeping as much. You know Sam and how he gets lost in his studies," Daniel said reassuringly, though deep inside he too felt concern for his baby brother.

"Yeah, I know, but…he's never let himself go like this before. Dad'll crap bricks if he sees him like this!"

"It's not that bad, Dean, and besides, we'll fatten him up before we see Dad. He'll get caught up on sleep and be good as new before you know it."

"I hope so or I'll have to kick the little bitch's ass!"

"The little bitch is bigger than you in case you haven't noticed," Daniel said with a slight chuckle.

Dean glanced over at Daniel and scoffed. "He may be taller, but he ain't bigger. He's scrawny as a scarecrow," he objected.

"He's not scrawny…he's…um…scrappy! Yep…our baby brother is scrappy," Daniel announced with a proud grin.

"Scrappy? Really? Like…Scrappy Doo? I don't think he'd like being compared to a cartoon puppy, Danny."

"Hey, you brought up how scrawny he's looking. I don't think he'd appreciate that either, little brother."

"'m not Scrappy Doo…and 'm not a scarecrow either," Sam's soft voice called from the back seat. Dean glanced back and grinned as Sam straightened himself and blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah, well…we think different. You've let yourself go a bit, kiddo," Dean said with a serious tone.

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I haven't let myself go. I'm a lean, mean fighting machine. Just because I don't have a few extra layers of fat on me doesn't mean I'm scrawny, chubbo," he responded with a light chuckle.

"Did you just call me chubbo?" Dean asked incredulously. He turned to look at Daniel as the young man began to laugh then smacked him on the arm. "Did he really just call me chubbo? And what the hell are you laughing at!? He was referring to you too, you big dummy!"

Daniel glanced over at his brother and grinned from ear to ear. "First of all, yes, he did call you chubbo and second…no, he was not referring to me. I have no extra fat on this fine body," he quipped.

"Fine body, my ass! I see you button your jeans in the morning! Gonna start calling you muffin top!" Dean retorted.

"Yeah, right! I dare you to pinch an inch…no, wait…I dare you to pinch half an inch! Come on…pinch me!" Daniel cried as he lifted his elbow, revealing his tee shirt covered side.

"I ain't pinching you, you big girly jerk!" Dean cried as he crammed himself up against the car door, as far away from his brother as he could. "Sheesh…next thing you know, you'll be wanting me to brush your hair and paint your nails!" he added with disgust. A soft laugh had him turning and scowling at the passenger in the back seat, his green eyes narrowed on the younger man. "What are you laughing at? You're more girly than he is!"

Sam smiled at him then patted him on the arm. "Will you brush my hair, chubbo? And don't forget, one hundred strokes," he said before he burst out laughing, joining his oldest brother who by this time had tears streaming down his face.

"Wh…I'm gonna beat your ass, you little bitch! Why don't you stroke this!" Dean hissed before turning around in his seat and crossing his arms dejectedly over his chest. "'m not a chubbo," he muttered under his breath while discreetly pinching his own side with his fingers.

The laughing continued for a few moments then died down to a few soft chuckles. Finally, after several minutes, Dean dared a sneak peek across the seat then back to his brother in the back seat. Sam was staring out the window, a slight smile on his face and in that moment all the teasing was forgotten. They were all three together again and they had the entire summer to hang out, maybe do a hunt or two, but mostly just enjoy being brothers. Though he was still concerned that Sam wasn't quite himself, Dean figured that after a few days of brotherly bonding, his kid brother would be back to his normal, irritating self and they could stop worrying about him. Then again, when did any of them really ever stop worrying about the youngest Winchester? If Dean only knew what the coming days would bring, he'd wrap his little brother in bubble wrap and head east to Virginia, never to lay feet in California again. But, he didn't know and neither did Daniel so the black car rumbled on North, all occupants oblivious to the danger that lie ahead.

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**Dun, dun, dun! So, I know it was short, but hopefully sweet? Anyway, if you have the time please let me know what you think and I'll post the next chapter in a week or so. I'm working on chapter 4 now and am hoping that I can keep ahead of the game so I can post every week or two. Okay...bye for now :D**

**Cindy**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all. First of all, I want to thank everyone who is reading this story and a special thank you to all of you who are taking the time to send me a comment. I appreciate it so much. Second, I know it has been quite a long time since I posted a chapter and I'm sorry about that. Three weeks ago my father passed away unexpectedly. It's been crazy these past weeks and things are finally starting to settle down. I have not had time, or the frame of mind to work on the next chapter so it may be awhile before I am able to post chapter 4. I will work on it as much as I can and will get it posted as soon as I can. Thank you for understanding.**

**Cindy**

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_May 24, 2003 – Somewhere south of San Francisco_

"Well, that's just freakin' great!" Dean hissed as he leaned his head out of his open window and narrowed his eyes on the long string of cars ahead of them. "What the hell is going on?!" he added as he drew his head back in and turned to his brother behind the wheel.

"Beats me…probably a wreck or something," Daniel answered with a shrug.

"We're never gonna make it to San Francisco at this rate!"

"Dean, we'll get there. Just relax…it's not like we're on a schedule or anything," Sam said from behind his brother.

Dean turned and scowled at the younger man. "You may not be on a schedule, but I sure the hell am! There are girls in San Francisco, Sammy…girls that don't know that someone like me exists. It is my obligation to bring this awesomeness to them! This traffic jam is denying all those hotties the best they've ever seen!"

"Oh brother! Modest much, Dean?" Daniel quipped with a light chuckle.

Dean glanced over at his brother, eyebrow lifted and shrugged. "I'm merely stating a fact, Danny. Just 'cause your jealous doesn't mean you have to try to bring me down," he said.

"What exactly would I have to be jealous of? I have no trouble at all attracting the ladies," Daniel stated.

"Well, I have to beat 'em off with a stick there's so many of 'em," Dean scoffed.

Sam laughed from the back seat then grabbed the handle on the door and pushed it open. "I think I should give you two some privacy," he said as both his brothers turned and eyed him quizzically. "Besides, it's getting pretty deep in here," he added with a wide grin.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, the young man doing his best to hide the sudden nervousness he felt.

"I'm just going to walk up the highway a bit to see if I can find out what's happened," Sam answered. "I'll be fine, Dean."

"What? I know you'll be fine…sheesh, Sammy. Like I care if you want to take a walk," Dean snapped.

"Yeah…okay," Sam said with a shake of his head. He shut the door and began to walk up the side of the highway, the young man soon disappearing from sight behind a large semi-trailer.

Dean nonchalantly leaned back in his seat and pretended not to care that he couldn't see his little brother anymore. He turned when he heard his older brother chuckle. "What?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"He's a big boy, Dean. He'll be fine," Daniel said, all the while watching the last spot he'd seen his little brother before he'd slipped beside the big rig.

Dean grinned as he straightened in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatcha lookin' for, big brother?" he asked mischievously. "A certain little brother by chance?"

Daniel scoffed and turned his eyes on Dean. "No…I'm just looking. Man, there's a lot of friggin' cars!"

"Uh huh…whatever," Dean said.

"Whatever, Dean. Like I said, Sam's a big boy. He can take care of himself…saved our asses in New Mexico that time…remember?"

Dean shuddered at the memory and cast his eyes back to the big rig. "Yeah, I remember. I also remember he almost died. That lunatic doctor cut him up pretty bad," he whispered as his hand reached for the door handle. A gentle grasp on his arm stopped him from opening the door. He glanced over at Daniel and smiled sadly.

"We have to let loose a little bit, Dean. I know it's hard…believe me I do, but he needs for us to give him a little slack," Daniel explained softly.

"It's more than hard, Danny. With everything that's happened? The Wilcoxs'…Randy Gregory…Torrence? It just seems there's so many assholes trying to take him away from us. How can we let loose? If we do, there'll be something or someone else ready to spring and I for one won't take that chance! Not with Sammy," Dean cried, his green eyes sweeping over the cars ahead of them, his body visibly relaxing when Sam's tall form appeared from beside the semi and began to walk their way.

Daniel followed Dean's gaze and smiled in relief when he saw his little brother. He gently smacked Dean's shoulder and grinned when the younger brother turned his way. "See…he's fine. All in one piece," he said.

"This time, Danny," Dean said in reply.

"Look, I know how you feel, Dean. I feel the same way. I'm not saying we have to let go completely…we just have to give him a little bit of room is all."

"He's going to college isn't he? That's all the room he needs," Dean hissed then turned on his relaxed face when Sam strolled up to the car and leaned his head into Dean's window.

"What're you two talking about?" Sam asked with a knowing raise of his eyebrow.

"Chicks…what else?" Dean answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sam smiled and shook his head then opened the back door and climbed into the back seat. "Talked to someone a ways up and it was a wreck. Cars are starting to move though so it shouldn't be too much longer before we're on our way," he said as he leaned back and shut his eyes.

Dean turned and looked over his shoulder, eyeing his brother critically. "Tired, Sammy?" he asked.

Sam opened his eyes and shrugged. "A little, I guess. Why?"

"Just wondering. You've slept quite a bit on the drive so far," Dean answered. "You feeling okay?" he added.

"I'm fine, Dean. Like I said earlier…been working hard to get that last class done. I've had some long nights the past few weeks," Sam explained.

"Yeah…you did say that. Anything else going on we should know about?"

Sam glanced over at his eldest brother and shook his head when he saw the same question in his eyes. "Nothing is going on. I'm fine. Nothing that a little nap won't cure," he said.

"Okay, well it looks like we're gonna be moving soon," Daniel said as he turned around to face out the front window. "You shut your eyes and get some sleep, Sammy….we'll wake you when we get there."

"Yeah, okay." With that, Sam once again shut his eyes. He was fast asleep in seconds.

Dean glanced back before turning around to face the highway ahead. "Something's up with him," he stated softly.

"It may just be what he's saying, Dean…late nights studying," Daniel said.

"No…it's something else. I can feel it, and I know you can too…I know you can."

Daniel sighed and spared a quick glance at his brother. "Yeah…something's off with him. Can't quite put my finger on it, but…"

"I know…ever since I mentioned San Francisco. I wonder if something happened when he was up here with his friends."

"He would have told us if something happened to him. He knows better than to keep stuff from us." Daniel lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror and took in his baby brother's sleeping form. Something was going on, that much he was sure of, but he resigned himself to let Sam tell them when he was ready. He returned his gaze to the traffic ahead and started the car. He shifted the Impala into gear and pressed lightly on the gas pedal when the cars ahead of him began to slowly move.

Dean glanced at Daniel and pursed his lips. "I hope you're right, Danny," he said with a sigh.

Daniel reached over and gently slugged Dean's arm. "Why don't you sleep for a bit too. It's gonna be a few hours before we get there," he suggested.

Dean leaned back in his seat and turned to look out his window. "Yeah, I guess I could shut my eyes for a little while. Wake me when we get close." He crossed his arms across his stomach, leaned his head back and shut his eyes. Daniel glanced over and smiled. His eyes moved to the rearview mirror and his smiled turned to a concerned frown. "What's up with you, kiddo?" he whispered to himself. With a sigh he turned back to the road and settled back in his seat. He guided the Impala down the highway and though he was happy that he and his brothers were finally together again, a niggling worry lie just beneath the surface and he couldn't shake the feeling that something just was not right.

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Dean woke with a start, his heart pounding madly in his chest as he lurched up from where he'd been slumped in his seat and stared wide eyed at his older brother. "What the hell! What did you hit!?" he cried, his eyes sweeping past Daniel to the darkened skies outside the car.

"What? I didn't hit anything, Dean. The thunder must have woken you," Daniel said as he glanced over at Dean.

As if on cue, a loud clap of thunder boomed across the early evening sky and shook the black car. Large drops of rain pelted the windows as Daniel squinted his eyes to see through the downpour. "Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, sure that he would find his younger brother awake. Sam had always been jittery during thunderstorms, sometimes to the point of outright fear. He was surprised when he found that Sam was still asleep, though the young man seemed anything but peaceful.

"Sammy?" Dean queried when Sam whimpered in his sleep. He was up on his knees and leaning over the seat when Sam cried out, his hands reaching for something that wasn't there. "Hey, Sam…kiddo, wake up," Dean urged as he gently grabbed Sam's wrists and pressed them back to his sides. Sam's eyes sprang open, the young man gasping as he scrambled away from the hands that held him.

"No…let me go!" Sam cried with fear in his wide, hazel eyes. Dean immediately let go of Sam's wrists and held his hands up in surrender. "It's okay, Sammy…it's just me," he said calmly, his green eyes staring at his brother in concern.

"Sam…it's okay, squirt. It's just us," Daniel called from the front seat, his eyes finding Sam's in the rearview mirror. Sam's mouth fell open then closed again as recognition finally filled his eyes.

"I…uh…" Sam stammered as he looked from one set of concerned eyes to the other. "Stop looking at me like that. I'm fine," he muttered as he looked away.

"Nightmare?" Dean asked, the young man settling back in his seat only when he was sure that Sam had calmed down.

"Uh…yeah. Just a nightmare," Sam replied.

Daniel glanced over and met Dean's eyes then turned his eyes forward again. "Um…is it the same ones? About…" he started to ask before Sam interrupted him.

"No…not Wilcox. It's…I don't know. Just random…I guess," Sam answered.

"Random? Like what?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged as he lifted his hands and began to absently rub his arms as if to brush away a chill. "Like…random. I don't know. Some guy in a black cape watching me…calling me," he finally said with a sigh. "It's nothing guys…really," he added when he saw the look his brothers exchanged.

"You don't usually have nightmares about nothing, Sammy," Dean said, his green eyes intensely scrutinizing his baby brother.

"Yeah, I know, Dean. It's usually Wilcox. I don't know what to tell you other than it must be just a random dream due to stress from school maybe?"

"This guy in the cape…do you recognize him? Could he be someone from school?" Daniel asked.

"Um…no…I don't know…I can't see his face," Sam answered. "Look, I understand you guys are worried, but you don't need to be. I'm fine. This semester was a tough one…that's all."

"You're probably right, kiddo. It probably is just the stress from school, but…you can't really blame us for worrying," Dean stated.

Sam smiled as he lightly slugged Dean's shoulder. "One of these days, Dean…you're going to have to realize that I'm a grown up and that you don't need to worry about me all of the time," he said.

"Never gonna happen, Sammy. You may be all grown up, but you're still my baby brother so…"

"Yeah, your baby brother who's at least three inches taller than you," Sam smugly said.

"You may be taller, bitch, but you ain't got no brawn. Skin and bones is more like it…do you ever eat?" Dean retorted with a snarl.

"I eat…and I'm not skin and bones."

"Salad does not constitute a meal, Sam," Dean said as he eyed his brother critically. "Now a bacon cheeseburger and fries…that's a meal. Add pie and you got all four food groups right there!"

"And clogged arteries…don't forget that," Sam said with a grin.

"Ah, but what a way to go!" Dean said just as another loud clap of thunder sounded, this one much louder than the others.

Sam turned toward the side window, his eyes wide as he stared out into the stormy night. Dean could sense his discomfort so he reached back and gently touched Sam's knee. "Hey, it's just a storm…nothing to worry about," he said.

Sam turned and smiled appreciatively. "Yeah, I know. It's just really coming down," he said.

Suddenly, the car began to shudder, a loud squealing noise emanating from the engine compartment. Daniel swore under his breath as he eased the car to the side of the street he had found himself on once he left the highway at the first exit into San Francisco. He just made it to the curb when the engine sputtered and died out altogether.

"What's going on?" Sam asked nervously as he leaned over the back of the seat.

"I don't know…the car's stalled," Daniel said as he tried to start the car, to no avail.

Dean glanced over and scowled as Daniel once again tried to start the car. "Did you forget to fill up at the last stop? If we're out of gas, you are so not gonna live it down, big brother," he said.

"We have plenty of gas, Dean. I don't know what's wrong and it's too damn dark and wet out there to try to find out right now," Daniel said as he stared intently out the windshield. "We're in the middle of nowhere from the looks of it. We may be spending the night in the car."

"We could check that old place out," Dean suggested as he dipped his head at a large, rundown looking house about 50 yards to his right.

Daniel leaned over his brother and eyed the house, a frown indicating his distaste of the place. "It's pretty crappy looking, Dean. Probably has a lot of leaks…and mice…"

"Or, it could be a place for us to stretch out instead of being cramped in the car all night," Dean interrupted.

Daniel shook his head as he straightened in his seat. "Fine…we'll check it out. If it's fairly dry, we can throw down some blankets and spend the night," he finally said.

"Okay, let's get going then," Dean said as he pushed open his door.

Daniel and Sam followed suit and once they had pulled their bags and blankets from the trunk, they headed for the house, all three brothers soaked before they ever made it to the rusty gate. Daniel led the way through the gate, followed by Dean with Sam pulling up the rear. The youngest brother lifted his eyes and for the first time took a good look at the house. He nearly gasped when the house from his nightmare loomed before him, its dark windows seeming to stare back at him with evil intent. He jumped when a strong hand grasped his arm and he nearly swung a fist until he realized it was Dean who stood before him.

"Hey, kiddo…what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Dean shouted over the roar of the rain.

Sam shook his arm free of Dean and ducked his head. "Nothing's wrong, Dean…I'm just freakin' freezing," he answered.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure…I'm fine."

Dean eyed him for a second then turned toward the house. Daniel was just ascending the steps to the front porch. Dean glanced over his shoulder and grinned at his little brother. "Come on, then…maybe we can start a fire in there!" he called as he took off at a quick jog toward the house.

Sam hesitated, then shook his head as he mumbled to himself about how stupid he was acting. He took off after his brothers and soon all three were pushing through the front door, their flashlights lighting up the dusty, cobwebby interior. Sam stood just inside the doorway, a chill running up his spine as he suddenly had the sense that he was being watched. He shook off the creepy feeling when Daniel called to him.

"Sammy…come on. We're gonna bed down in here for the night." Sam watched as Daniel and Dean disappeared into a darkened doorway to the left of the foyer. He swung his flashlight around the entryway, then chuckled nervously when nothing stared back at him from the shadows. He hurried to the room his brothers had disappeared into and with one last look at the foyer behind him, slipped into the room, completely missing the shadow that was just a bit darker than the rest. The shadow shaped like a man in a cape.

**Well, that's it for now. I hope you all liked the chapter. There will be some hurt Sam in the next chapter so I'll try as hard as I can to not make you wait too long! See you soon!**

**Cindy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all. I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter done and posted. With everything that's been going on, well lets just say it's been a bit crazy and I have had a difficult time getting my mind back into writing mode. Thank you all so much for your kind words regarding my dad's passing. It meant the world to me! Anyway, I will let you get to the chapter. Thanks sl much for your patience!**

**Cindy**

A shadow moved fluidly across the dirty, dusty floor and drifted noiselessly into the room where the three Winchester brothers slept, the two elder brothers flanking the younger, protective even in sleep. The shadow came to a stop at the feet of the youngest and lingered there for several minutes before once again moving forward until it was directly over the sleeping hunter's chest. The shadow shifted until it hovered parallel over Sam's body, just an inch separating it from the one it seemed enthralled with. The shadow lowered over Sam until it completely enveloped him, the young man whimpering in his sleep as tendrils wound through his hair and under his head.

"_Samuel…you've come back…," _the shadow whispered as it wrapped around the sleeping man, lifting his body from the floor and effortlessly carrying him from the room, away from his brothers and protectors. Silence filled the room, and the brothers slept on, unaware of the danger amiss.

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Dean awoke with a start, instantly aware that something wasn't right. He turned his head, his green eyes squinting into the darkness. His eyes widened when he saw the empty space between he and Daniel. He was on his feet in no time and scanning the room with only the dim glow of the moonlight coming through the dirt encrusted windows lighting his way. When he did not see any hint of his little brother, he moved to where Daniel lay sleeping and nudged him with the tip of his boot. Daniel groaned as he came awake, his dark eyes blinking up at his younger brother with confusion.

"Wh-what? Dean…what's wrong?" Daniel rasped as he pushed up from the floor.

"Sammy's gone…we gotta find him," Dean answered, the young man frantically digging for his flashlight.

Daniel glanced around the darkened room then back at his brother. "Are you sure he didn't just go to take a leak or something?" he asked as he relaxed back onto his blanket.

Dean paused in his search and blew out a quick breath. "Uh…never thought about that," he mumbled.

"Dean, we talked about this. Sam's not a kid anymore," Daniel said.

"Yeah, yeah…give him some space…blah, blah, blah. I remember, Danny."

"Look, Dean…you know I get it…you know I do. We've almost lost him so many times and all I want to do is keep him with us all of the time, but that's not fair to Sammy. As hard as it is, we have to let him live his life his way. We…," Danny suddenly stopped as a faint whimper reached his ears. He looked at Dean and could tell by the way his green eyes widened that he had heard it too.

"Sammy," Dean whispered fearfully as he looked at his brother.

Daniel scrambled to his bag and pulled his flashlight free. He was on his feet in seconds, leading the way out of the room, Dean right on his heels. They rushed into the entryway, the beam from Daniel's flashlight sweeping through the dimly lit room. Another soft whimper drew the brother's attention to the stairway and both gasped when they saw Sam standing precariously on the top step.

"Sammy…what are you doing?" Dean called softly, fearful that if he shouted his brother would startle and loose his footing.

Sam's half closed eyes lifted and looked in his brother's direction. Both Dean and Daniel started for the staircase, but then something caught their eye and they stopped, both somehow and suddenly unable to move. Their eyes widened as the darkness behind Sam began to move. Slowly, the darkness began to flow over Sam. It wrapped itself around the young man as if in a lover's embrace, tendrils of darkness caressing his face, winding its way through his hair, drawing his head slightly back. All the while, Sam let out scared whimpers, a steady litany of "No…please, no…" falling from his lips, panicking his brothers as his frightened words reached their ears.

"Let him go!" Dean shouted, the young man seething as he tried to free himself from the invisible force that held him in place.

Beside Dean, Daniel too struggled to move, his dark eyes never leaving the horrifying scene at the top of the stairs, his baby brother's cries breaking his heart and hardening his resolve to get to the son of a bitch who was causing Sam pain. Both brothers jumped when suddenly the darkness completely enveloped Sam and the youngest Winchester cried out in fear and pain.

From somewhere within the darkness a hissing whisper emanated, the words it said enraging both brothers and they tried desperately to move, their eyes catching glimpses of their brother's terrified face every few seconds as the dark shadow flowed around him.

"_Mine…he is mine."_

"He is not yours! You let him go!" Daniel screamed, his face turning red at the strain of trying to free himself.

"_He killed me…he destroyed my dreams. Now he is back and he will serve his purpose. He belongs to me."_

"You freak son of a bitch! You get your freakin' paws off my brother!" Dean shouted.

"_As you wish," _the voice called and then without warning, Sam pitched forward out of the shadow, his arms weakly pawing at air as he tried to catch himself. Dean and Daniel were suddenly free, their screams of alarm mingling as they sprang forward and up the first flight of stairs. Sam's body hit the first step with a sickening crunch. He tumbled down the stairs, his limp frame coming to rest face down on the landing just as Dean and Daniel reached it.

The brothers dropped down beside Sam, their hands immediately searching for any injuries. Blood was smeared over the side of Sam's partially hidden face and Dean turned his head to look up the stairs, his eyes narrowed in a murderous glare.

"I will destroy you, you bastard!" he hissed through clenched teeth. He immediately turned his attention back to his brother when Sam moaned.

"Dean, we have to get him out of here, but I'm not sure we can move him," Daniel whispered urgently. "We have to figure out how badly he's hurt, but with that…thing up there…"

Dean reached over and patted Daniel's arm then quickly got to his feet. He stepped around his brothers and moved to the top of the lower set of stairs.

"Dean….what are you doing?" Daniel called softly as he instinctively inched his body around his fallen brother so that he shielded Sam from the shadow that still lingered at the top of the staircase, but could still see if it made a move toward them.

"I'll be right back…just keep checking Sam over," Dean called back before suddenly bounding down the stairs.

"Shit!" Daniel hissed under his breath, his dark eyes moving to see what the shadow was going to do. He was surprised to see that it hadn't moved.

Dean was back in less than a minute, a canister of salt in one hand and an iron fireplace poker in the other. The brother's duffels were slung over his shoulders, which he dropped on the landing beside Daniel once he reached him. His gaze warily moved to the top of the stairs where the shadow still lingered.

"What the hell is it doing?" he whispered as he opened the salt canister and moved to the base of the stairs.

"I don't know," Daniel answered. "It's freaking me out though."

"Yeah…freak ass spirit…or whatever the hell it is," Dean added as he began to lay down a salt line around the edges of the landing. He looked up as he sensed movement and sucked in a breath when he saw the shadow start to flow down the stairs. He hurried his movements and finished the salt line just as the spirit reached the landing. "Try getting to our brother now, you fuckin' freak!" he hissed.

"_He is mine."_

Dean glared up at the shadow then dropped the salt canister and moved around his brothers where he dropped down to his knees beside side, opposite Daniel. "How is he?" he asked, his fingers moving to the cut he could see just above Sam's temple.

Daniel looked up and shrugged lightly. "I think his arm is broken, but I don't feel any broken ribs. I just don't know about his back," he answered worriedly.

"We have to get him out of here, Danny," Dean said as he cast a quick glance up the stairs. He flinched when he saw that the shadow was gone.

"I know we do, but I don't want to chance paralyzing him if he's injured his spine."

"Shit!" Dean hissed under his breath. Sam's sudden moan brought both brothers full attention to their fallen sibling. "Hey, Sammy…that's it…wake up, kiddo," Dean whispered as he leaned over the younger brother so he could better see his face.

"Wha…" Sam murmured. He tried to roll over as his eyes fluttered open and Daniel gently pressed down on his arm.

"Sammy, stay still. We don't know how badly you're hurt yet," he said.

"I…it…what happn'd?"

"We don't know, kiddo. Just let us worry about that," Daniel answered. "Sammy…we need to get you out of here, but we can't move you until we know it's safe."

"I…I'm fine…"

"You were pushed down the stairs, Sam. You could have hurt your back," Dean said.

"m' back doesn't hurt…'m fine."

Dean glanced up at Daniel then back down at his brother. "Sammy, move your legs for me," he said.

Sam groaned as he rolled slightly and moved his legs. "See…fine."

Dean smiled and patted Sam's arm. He looked up and met Daniel's eyes. "What do you think?" he asked.

Daniel pursed his lips and shook his head. "We have to get him out of this house. I think we have to chance moving him," he answered.

"Yeah…okay," Dean said then looked down at Sam. "We're gonna roll you over, Sammy. Just let us do the work, okay?"

Together, Dean and Daniel rolled Sam's body over in on fluid motion, ever careful of his injured arm. Once they had him on his back, they were able to fully evaluate for any other injuries he may have. Once they determined that the broken arm was the worst of it, they prepared to get him out of the house and away from the threat.

"Sammy, we're gonna get you up. Do you think you can stand?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah…let's just get out of here," Sam groaned.

They got Sam up from the floor, his arms draped over their shoulders. They turned for the steps, but suddenly stopped when the shadow appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hissed. "Can you handle Sammy for a few?" he asked as he glanced over at Daniel.

"Yeah, of course. What are going to do?" Daniel answered.

Dean grinned, made sure Daniel had Sam securely in his grasp then knelt down and grabbed up the fire poker. Leading the way, he smirked as he stepped over the salt line and descended the stairs. The spirit moved toward him, but Dean was ready. He swung the poker, slicing through the shadow. A scream of rage filled the air as the spirit disappeared. Dean rushed back up the stairs and took Sam's arm once again.

"We have to hurry…don't know how long that will keep that fucker away!" he shouted.

Together, they eased Sam down the stairs and started toward the door. Suddenly, the shadow reappeared, blocking their path. "Son of a bitch," Dean seethed as he raised the poker.

"_He is mine!" _the spirit screeched as it shot toward them. Dean swung his arm, missing the spirit as it disappeared then reappeared behind them.

"Get Sam out of here!" Dean shouted as he let go of his brother and turned toward the threat.

Daniel nodded as he hoisted his duffel up higher on his shoulder and practically dragged Sam for the front door. He heard Dean growl and then a screech as the spirit was obviously sent to wherever spirits go when sliced through with iron. He was just going out the door when Dean caught up again and together, the two brothers got their half conscious brother through the pouring rain and to the Impala. They gently laid his shivering frame out on the back seat then both moved to get into the front seat, Dean behind the wheel. He turned the key and surprisingly, the engine roared to life. The brothers looked at each other in disbelief. Dean put the car into gear, gunned the engine and sped away, eager to put as many miles between the house and his little brother as possible.

Inside the house, the spirit fumed and screeched. Fury ripped through it as it watched through a window as the black car sped away.

"_You are mine, Samuel, and you will be back!"_

The spirit disappeared with one final scream, knowing that the boy would return.

**Well, that's it for now. I hope you all liked it. Please let me know...and thanks again for being so patient with me. I will try to get the next chapter done and posted faster than this one, but no promises. **

**Cindy**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, it's been quite a long time, but I finally have the next chapter ready for you all. Thank you so much for all of your comments...and the proddings for the next chapter...lol. I know it has been taking a long time between chapters, but finding the time to write while working two jobs is difficult at best. I ALWAYS finish my stories, it just will take longer to get there is all. Thanks to everyone who has stuck around and been patient with me. I so appreciate each and every one of you! So, without any further ado...onto chapter 5.**

Daniel blew out the breath he had been holding as he watched Dean pace from one side of the waiting room to the other. It had been the same scene for the past hour, ever since Sam had been taken behind closed doors, leaving his two older brothers to watch helplessly at the swinging doors as he disappeared from sight. Daniel had tried sitting, but his nerves would not allow it for more than a few minutes so instead, he stood at the rear of the waiting room, his eyes moving from the door to his brother and back. Finally, he walked over to Dean and gently gripped his arm, bringing the agitated young man to a halt.

"Dean, stop…please. You're making me dizzy, dude," Daniel said as he met his sibling's eyes.

Dean seemed to deflate at that and slowly trudged to a nearby chair. He sank down and brushed his hand through his short hair. He glanced over as Daniel sat beside him and shook his head. "What the hell was that, Danny? What happened back there?" he asked, his voice sounding confused and angry all at the same time.

"I don't know. That was…that was some crazy shit. I…we need to call Dad," Daniel rambled in reply.

"Yeah…we should. I mean…that thing…what was it? Was it a spirit? A demon? It…it's like it was holding Sammy…caressing him almost, before it pushed him," Dean said with a shudder.

"Fuck, Dean…why did it go after Sammy?"

"I don't know. Why does it always seem to be Sammy the freakers go after?"

"Shit…this is messed up," Daniel muttered, his dark eyes moving to emergency room doors once again. "Where the hell is the doctor? Why haven't they come out yet?" he asked, mostly to himself.

Dean sighed as he too turned his attention to the doors. "He's gonna be okay, right?" he asked warily.

Daniel turned to his brother and gripped his arm. "He's gonna be just fine, Dean. Sammy's a tough little shit," he answered with a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, you're right," Dean said. He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees. "So, you gonna call Dad?" he added a few moments later.

Daniel sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. He looked down at Dean and sighed again. "Yeah. I guess I better get it done, huh? Dad's gonna freak out, I can tell you that for sure," he said.

"Yeah. Wonder if he'll dump the hunt or not," Dean said.

"I don't know…we'll see," Daniel answered. "I'm gonna do this outside…come get me if the doctor comes out," he added.

Dean nodded as he looked up at his brother. "Yeah, I will," he said with a reassuring smile. He watched as Daniel cast his gaze to the ER doors. The older brother stood for several moments, watching the doors, then finally turned toward the entrance and made his way outside. Dean could see him just outside the glass doors, his cellphone pressed to his ear. He watched as Daniel brushed a nervous hand through his hair as he talked, supposedly to their father, before the elder sibling walked out of sight. Dean sighed as he turned his attention back to the ER doors, green eyes intense as he willed the doors to open. Of course, the doors remained stubbornly closed and Dean huffed an impatient breath as he settled back in his chair and waited for either a doctor to emerge to tell him what was going on with Sam or for Daniel to come back in to let him know just how pissed off their father was.

"Sammy, why is it always you, kiddo?" he whispered with a tired shake of his head.

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"I don't know, Dad…the car just stalled right in front of the house," Daniel said as he scrubbed his hand over his face. He shook his head as he listened to his father on the other end of the line. "We were sleeping and then we woke up and Sammy was gone. We went looking for him and saw him at the top of the stairs, then this shadow, or whatever it was just…it's like it just oozed around him until we couldn't even see him anymore then…it…it pushed him. A voice…more of a hiss than anything said that Sam belonged to…to whatever that thing was. We got Sam out of there as quickly as we could."

Daniel listened for a few more moments then blew out a shaky breath. "He was pretty banged up…still being taken care of…no, they won't let us back with him," he said. He bit at his lower lip then looked to the dark sky, his eyes narrowed as he sank deep into thought. "It was not far off the highway…Crandall Street I think. Big, rundown house…I didn't notice the address. It for sure hasn't been used for a really long time," he explained. He nodded as John's voice carried through the earpiece of his phone. "Thanks, Dad. I'll let you know where we're staying as soon I know. Call me if you find out something sooner…yeah, we'll see you in a few days." Daniel flipped his phone shut and took a deep, steadying breath. He slipped his phone in his pocket as he turned back toward the hospital and made his way back inside. He found Dean exactly where he'd left him, the younger man's eyes firmly planted on the ER doors. Dean looked over at him as he sat in the chair next to him and Daniel cringed at the red rimmed eyes of his younger brother.

"So, what did Dad say?" Dean asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"He's not happy. Basically freaked out when I told him. I told him the street and general description of where the house is. He's gonna call Caleb and have him research it," Daniel answered.

"Is he coming?"

Daniel pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah…he said he'll have Bobby find someone else to help with the hunt…said he should be here in a few days."

"Good…I really don't feel like going at this without him."

Daniel nodded in agreement then settled back in his chair. "I hope we can take Sammy out of here tonight. You know how much the kid hates hospitals," he said. As if on cue to his comment, the ER doors swung open and a bedraggled looking doctor walked out and straight for the waiting area. With only a few other people sitting in the rows of chairs it wasn't hard for the doctor to determine who the two brothers of his patient were. Daniel and Dean leapt to their feet as the doctor approached, both watching for any hint of their brother's condition by reading the middle aged man's face.

"Brothers of Sam Tilton?" the doctor asked as he stepped up the two eager young men.

"Yeah…that's us. How is our brother?" Dean answered as he took a step toward the doctor.

The doctor smiled and glanced down at the chart he held in his hands. "Sam is doing pretty well, considering he fell down a flight of stairs. He has a broken wrist, which is being set as we speak. Bruised ribs and some minor contusions…"

"What about his back?" Daniel asked nervously.

The doctor smiled reassuringly as his fingers absently tapped at the back of the clipboard. "No injuries to his back," he answered. "Your brother is quite lucky to have escaped the fall with just the broken wrist and bruises."

"So, he's gonna be okay?" Dean inquired, his eyes intently watching the doctor's face.

"He's going to be quite sore for a few days, but nothing that some rest won't take care of," the doctor answered.

"Can we take him home?" Daniel asked.

The doctor nodded as he smiled up at Daniel. "As soon as the wrist is casted, he'll be free to go. I'll send you off with some pain killers and anti-inflammatories. He'll need to take it easy for the next few days and you'll want to keep the cast dry…icing his ribs will help with the bruising. That's about all the instructions you'll need. That will all be on the release papers. Why don't you sit tight and I'll have Sam brought out to you as soon as he's finished."

"Thanks, doctor…for everything," Daniel said as he reached out to shake the doctor's hand.

"Of course…glad I could bring you good news," the doctor commented as he took the hand that was offered. "Take a seat. It shouldn't be too much longer," he added before he turned and walked back through the ER doors.

The brothers watched as the doors swung shut then turned and looked at each other. "Thank God," Dean whispered as he sunk back down into his chair. Daniel nodded as he too sat down. They'd dodged a bullet tonight, both brothers knowing it could have been so much worse. They just hoped that their father and Caleb could figure out exactly what was going on and they could take care of the freak thing that had hurt their brother without any further trouble. Of course, Winchester luck as it was, they should have realized that nothing was ever easy for them and that things would get much worse before they could ever hope for it to get better.

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"Yeah, Dad…we got a motel a few miles from the hospital. Sammy's sleeping…the pain pills knocked him out. I'll text you the address," Daniel said as he sat at the shaky table at the end of the bed his baby brother slept on. Dean snored lightly on the other bed and Daniel smiled affectionately as his gaze drifted between his two brothers. "Have you heard from Caleb yet? Did he find out anything?" Daniel listened as John spoke then nodded before speaking into his phone again. "Okay, Dad…we'll sit tight and wait for you to get here. See you in a few days." He flipped his phone shut and groaned as he pushed up out of the chair.

"You should sleep, Danny," Dean's sleepy voice called and the older brothers glanced over at the blinking green eyes staring at him and smiled.

"I'm fine, Dean. Kind of want to keep an eye on the kid, you know?"

"Sam's okay. He's gonna be out for several hours. We're both wrung out and need sleep," Dean reasoned.

"Yeah, I now you're right, but I don't know if I can sleep. You go back to sleep and when you wake up again, I'll sleep."

Dean sighed as he shook his head. He understood, but the dark circles under his brother's eyes worried him. He knew it would do him no good to argue though so he changed the subject. "So, what did Dad say?" he asked as he settled his head back onto his pillow.

"Uh…Caleb hasn't found much out yet, but he's still working on it. He's actually only a few hours away so once he gets something he's gonna head our way. Dad will be here by tomorrow afternoon, so about thirty six hours from now. Wants us to hang here until he and Caleb get here," Daniel answered. "Now, get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on the kid."

"Yeah, okay," Dean said. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, his breaths evening out almost instantly. Daniel rested his elbows on the table and closed his eyes, the previous evenings events playing out in his mind as he listened to the sounds of his two sleeping brothers.

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Sam woke with a gasp and sat up suddenly, his hazel eyes wide as he glanced around the unfamiliar room. He wrapped his unbroken arm around his ribs and groaned at the dull ache that thrummed through his torso. He saw that Dean lay sound asleep in the bed next to the one he occupied while Daniel was slumped at a table at the foot of his bed. He cocked his head and listened for the voice that he was sure had awoken him. Sunlight filtered through the faded drape over the one window, lending the room a tiny bit of light for him to see. After a few minutes with no sound save for the soft snores of his sleeping brothers, Sam let out a quiet breath and gingerly lay back down. _"Must have been a dream," _he whispered to himself as he settled back under the blanket that covered him. He closed his eyes and lay there waiting for sleep to claim him again.

"_Samuel…it is time to come to me."_

Sam's eyes sprang open, his breath hitching as he squinted into the semi-lighted room. "Who's there?" he called out softly, his gaze drifting over the room looking for any sign of movement.

"_You belong to me…come to me and fulfill your debt."_

Sam's eyes glazed over, his pupils blown wide as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He pushed to his feet, the young man wobbling slightly on unstable legs. He took one step, then two and was soon walking slowly toward the door. He reached out and grabbed the door knob, giving it firm twist, but frowned when the door didn't open. "Locked," he mumbled as he reached up to release the deadbolt.

"Sammy? What are you doing?" a sleepy, confused voice called, making Sam jump and turn around, his eyes wide with surprise.

"I…I…don't know," Sam stuttered as he stepped back from the door, his eyes finding those of his eldest brother who was now walking toward him from the other side of the room.

"You okay, kiddo?" Daniel asked as he reached his brother and gently took his arm.

"Sam? Danny…what's going on?" Dean called from his bed, the young man pushing up onto his elbow.

Daniel helped up a hand to Dean then turned back to his baby brother. "Sam…where were you going?" he asked as he peered into his brother's confused eyes.

"I don't know. I…I don't even remember getting out of bed," Sam answered, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

Dean rolled out of bed and was by his brother's side in a few short seconds. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asked as he helped Daniel get Sam back to his bed.

"Maybe…I don't know," Sam answered. He settled back on his bed with his brother's help then looked up into their worried faces. "I thought someone was calling to me," he added.

"Who was calling to you? What did they want?" Dean asked. He glanced up to meet his elder brother's nervous gaze.

"I don't know. It was a man's voice…said it was time to come to him…said I belonged to him," Sam said. "Must've been a dream."

"Yeah, must have been," Daniel said as he lightly patted his brother's shoulder. "Let's get you back into bed. It's about time to give you your pain meds anyway."

"I need to use the bathroom first…if that's okay," Sam said softly.

"Yeah, sure…of course it's okay. Can you get there okay on your own?" Daniel asked.

Sam looked up and grinned. "Yeah…I think I can handle it," he said sheepishly.

Dean chuckled and helped is brother to his feet. The two elder brother's watched as Sam gingerly made his way to the bathroom then closed the door behind himself.

"What the hell?" Dean asked as soon as Sam was out of earshot. "A voice calling for him? What the hell is going on?"

Daniel brushed his hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath. "I don't know, Dean. It could just be a dream. He could have heard what that thing said and now it's manifesting in his subconscious. I really hope it's just a dream," he answered.

"Well, I say we don't let the little shit out of our sight. He was trying to get outside," Dean said nervously.

"Yeah…I hate to think where he would've gotten himself to if I hadn't woke up," Daniel said with a shudder.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped into the room, his eyes instantly finding his brothers right where they'd been when he'd headed for the bathroom. "Talking about me?" he asked with a grin as he made his way back to them.

"Uh, no…we were just discussing what to get for breakfast…or lunch based upon what time it is," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Uh huh," Sam said in reply, the young man easing down onto his bed, brushing off the offered help of his brothers. Once he was settled against the headboard, he glanced up at the two set of eyes that watched him and cocked his head. "What happened at that house, guys? What's got you both so spooked?" he asked softly.

Daniel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "You don't remember?" he asked as he patted Sam's knee through the blanket.

"I remember going to sleep and then I remember waking up in the emergency room. What happened last night? What happened to me?" Sam answered.

"We're not sure, Sammy. Something had you at the top of the stairs…pushed you down them. We have no clue what it was…spirit or demon…we don't know, but once Dad and Caleb get here, we're going to find out," Dean said as he sat on the other bed and faced his brother.

"Wait…Dad's coming here?" Sam asked.

"Yeah…we called him last night. He should get here tomorrow afternoon. Caleb's researching then he's heading our way," Daniel said in reply.

"Why would Dad…"

"Sammy, this thing…it knew your name. It said you belonged to it and then we wake up to you trying to leave the room and saying a voice was calling for you? You could've been hurt a lot worse than you were. No way is Dad not going to come," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"But what about the hunt? Bobby's hunt?"

"Bobby's gonna call someone else to help," Dean answered.

"So, we just sit here and wait?"

"Yeah…and you don't leave our sight for anything," Dean said.

"So, you're my babysitters now?" Sam shook his head as he settled further into the bed.

"Yep, you got that right so you may as well get used to it," Dean replied.

"Great…back to being twelve years old again," Sam mumbled with a hint of disgust.

Dean laughed out loud and swung his legs up onto this bed. He leaned up against his headboard then glanced up at his older brother. "So, since you're all dressed I guess you can go get us some grub, huh? I'll keep an eye on the brat while you're gone," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Gee, thanks," Daniel said. He grabbed the keys up from the table and headed for the door. He gave his brothers one last look before he stepped out into the bright late morning sunlight and headed for the car. He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He glanced at the window to their room and sighed heavily. After a few moments he turned the key in the ignition and the Impala roared to life. He pulled out of the motel parking lot and turned right onto the street, the young man eager to get to where he was going so he could then get back to the ones who were his entire life.

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A few miles from the motel that held the Winchester brothers, the large, rundown house stood. Inside, the spirit raged, its dark form flowing through the rooms, its scream echoing through the house as it let its anger out. Dust covered furniture lifted from the dirty floors and flew through the air, smashing against walls as the spirit raged on.

"_You are mine, Samuel! Nobody will keep you from me! You will be sacrificed and I will live again!" _ the spirit screeched before finally the house stood silent once again.

**That is it for now. I'll work on the next chapter as often as I can and hopefully have it posted within a few weeks or so. And as an FYI...I am also working on a one/two shot that a reader asked me to write. Once the suggestion was made I couldn't get it out of my head...so be watching for that. It is Three Brothers and I should have it ready to post soon. Take care and thanks for reading!**

**Cindy**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, I'm finally here with an update to this story. Another couple slow days at work has allowed me to get this chapter written and I'm so relieved! Phew! Thanks to all who left comments and reviews for the last chapter and thank you to all who are still with me on this even though it is taking so long between chapters. Life is a bit crazy as it is with everyone I'm sure. No action in this chapter, just a bit of John, Caleb and some brotherly moments to move the story along. If I have a few more days like yesterday and today, who knows, maybe I can get the next chapter started. I promise some action in that one! So...onto the story :D**

**Cindy**

"Yeah, thanks, Caleb. I'll see you in a few days," John said before he flipped his phone shut and tossed it onto the seat beside him. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then slowly let it out. The breath did nothing to calm his nerves though and he lifted a trembling hand to brush through his messy hair. "A magician? What the hell does a magician have to do with Sammy?" he whispered to himself as his truck raced down the highway.

John had called Caleb in the hopes that he had found something, anything to help them figure out what had happened at the house in San Francisco and why Sam had been targeted by whatever dwelled there. So far, all Caleb had come up with was that the last known occupant had been an up and coming magician known as The Magnificent Manfredo…and what kind of freaking name was that, John thought to himself as he went over the limited information Caleb had relayed to him in his head. The magician had mysteriously disappeared the night of May 1, 1904, the same night he was suspected of kidnapping a local young man from a performance of his magic show. Caleb was further researching the young man and his family, was in fact in the middle of that research when John had called. He'd promised he would have the information they needed by the time he met up with the Winchesters in San Francisco.

John barreled down the highway, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as his truck ate up the miles between he and his sons. He was lost deep in thought, the man confused as to what a magician who had lived and presumably died almost one hundred years earlier had to do with his youngest son. The family had no ties to San Francisco as far as he knew, Mary's family either, so John was troubled by what could have possibly connected his son to that house and its mysterious resident. Daniel had mentioned that Sam had gone to San Francisco for his birthday with some friends, but John couldn't for the life of him figure out how that could have made Sam the target of a spirit. Daniel had also mentioned a nightmare that Sam had while they were driving to San Francisco. He had explained that it wasn't the normal nightmare that Sam had, the one that involved the father and son who had nearly taken Sam away from them a few years back. Daniel had explained how Sam had shrugged it off, saying it was most likely due to the stress of school, but since what had happened at the rundown house, the eldest brother wasn't quite so sure anymore.

John squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun and reached to flick the radio on. He needed to think and sometimes a little music in the backround helped to clear his thoughts and help his thinking processes. Somehow, Sam had managed to pick up a ghostly stalker and they needed to figure out how and why so they could put the spirit to rest before it had the chance to hurt his son even worse than it already had. They already had a pretty good idea of who the culprit had been, if in fact the magician was the guilty party, but the big question was what had happened to the man all those years ago? If it was his spirit who had latched on to Sam, then he was somehow tied to the house. That normally meant that bones were buried there, or that some part of the person, or a treasured object were hidden there, keeping the spirit tied to the house. Maybe just the fact that his sons had broken in and disturbed the house was why Sam had been targeted, John thought. Maybe somehow his youngest son reminded the spirit of the young man who had been kidnapped that night in 1904. So many questions that needed to be answered, but couldn't be until John reached his sons and had a chance to find out all that Caleb had discovered. John turned the radio up louder and let his mind wander as he sped his way west. He didn't know quite what they were up against, but he did know one thing beyond all certainty. Whatever it was, it would not get his son.

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"This sucks," Dean hissed, his fingers tapping methodically on the marred table top, eyes drifting to his sleeping little brother on the bed before returning to stare at nothing on the table.

"Dean, Dad will be here tomorrow, Caleb too, and then we can figure this whole mess out," Daniel said. The elder brother strolled to the table, two steaming cups of coffee held in his hands. He sat one down in front of his brother then took the seat across from him. He took a sip from his own cup then let his eyes wander to Sam. The kid was beat, had fallen asleep right after they'd eaten and had been asleep for the past five hours. His broken arm lay atop a pillow, his peaceful face rolled slightly to the side. Daniel sighed at the sight of him, bruised and battered and worn out to the point of exhaustion. He was having his doubts that Sam's tiredness was due solely to his late nights studying. The nightmares Sam had described and then the incident at the abandoned house were leading Daniel's thoughts down an impossible path, a path that told him the two things were related. He had no idea how they could be, but he couldn't help thinking that somehow, some way, they were. Daniel was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when two fingers snapped in front of his face and he turned to see Dean glaring at him, green eyes narrowed as he cocked his head.

"What?" Daniel asked.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you," Dean replied.

"I…I was thinking…sorry." Daniel gave his brother a sheepish grin as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips. He took a small sip then set the cup back down. "What were you saying?" he asked.

"I was just wondering why? Why Sammy? Why do these freaks always go after the kid? It's crazy! First Michael Wilcox thinks Sam is his to do with as he pleases, then his freak ass son does the same thing and now this! This…this thing saying Sam is his. What is it?" Dean said, his voice lowered to an almost whisper to avoid waking his sleeping brother.

Daniel sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "I don't have an answer for you, Dean. I have no idea either. It's like…like someone's writing some fucked up story about our lives and for some reason they get off on hurting Sammy. It's one thing after the other trying to take the kid away from us and I'm so tired of it. I just wish the frickin' universe would leave him alone for once," Daniel answered, his voice strained.

Dean glanced over at Sam then back at his older brother. "Yeah, I hear ya. This crap has got to stop. Sam's been through enough and I'm…I'm fucking amazed that he can still function. I don't know that I could come out of the things he's been through without being a babbling idiot," he said.

"Um, Dean, I hate to break it to you, but you already are a babbling idiot," Daniel quipped with a wink of his eye.

"What? Hey, you big frickin' jerk…I'm being serious here!"

Daniel snorted as he eyed his brother with amusement. "So am I. Half the time when you talk I just tune you out because I don't want to lose the amount of brain cells that I would by listening to some of your stories. Too high a cost, little brother."

"You're an ass, you know that! My stories are awesome. Just because you're jealous that I have a sex life and you don't doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Dean snapped.

"Oh god, here we go….la, la, la…" Daniel cried as he covered his ears and sang out loud to block Dean's rant.

"You...I'm…I…"

"Hey, could you two keep it down. Some people are trying to sleep over here," Sam's voice called softly. Dean whipped his head around to see his baby brother staring back at him and Daniel.

"Hey, kid…sorry for waking you," Dean said as he made his way to Sam's bed.

"It's okay, been sleeping enough," Sam answered as he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. "What are you two arguing about this time anyway?" he asked.

Daniel walked over and sat on the end of Sam's bed. He patted his brother's foot and smiled. "Oh…Dean was just trying to persuade me that he has more sex than I do. It was quite nauseating actually," Daniel answered.

"I do have more sex than you. It's a fact, pure and simple," Dean quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Keep dreaming, little brother," Daniel replied.

"You're both dreaming, you know that, right?" Sam suddenly said, his face brightened by a wide smile.

"What?" Dean asked as he turned to his little brother. Daniel crossed his arms over his chest as he too turned to look at Sam.

"I have way more sex than either of you, so there!" Sam said, his grin widening even further as both brothers mouth's gaped open.

"How do you figure?" Dean finally asked once the shock of those words coming out of his little brother wore off.

"Um…hot girlfriend, late night studying in her dorm room," Sam replied with a flare of his good hand, his eyebrows arched suggestively.

"No way…uh uh…don't believe you for a second, Sammy boy," Dean snapped.

"What…you think all I do with Jess is study?" Sam asked.

Daniel's laughter rang through the room as he watched the incredulous look wash over Dean's face. He wrapped his arms around his stomach as tears began to stream from his eyes. "The…the l-look…on your face…oh my god…I'm dying!" he cried out between laughs.

Dean stood up, both hands placed firmly on his hips as he glared at one brother then the other. "You're an asshole," he said to Daniel then turned to Sam. "Any you're…well, you're just a little bitch!"

Sam shrugged as he too began to chuckle. "The truth hurts, huh Dean?"

"I'm not listening to you. You're just making it all up, nerd boy."

"Yeah, you got me…I'm making it up. You are still king," Sam said with a chuckle.

"You're damn right I'm king," Dean murmured as he stomped to the table and sat heavily down in his chair.

"You're hopeless, Dean," Daniel said as his laughter finally died down.

"But I'm king, so there!"

Daniel shook his head as he gazed at Dean with deep affection. He chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet. "So, who's hungry?" he asked as he headed for the door.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

Caleb stared at his computer screen, not quite believing what he was seeing. He scrolled down, eyes searching for every bit of information that would him find out just what he and the Winchesters were up against. Finally, he leaned back and brushed a nervous hand over his face.

"Reincarnation? It can't be. Shit," he whispered to himself as he began to pack up his meager belongings. If what he had found in his research was right, then there was much more to what was happening than just some spirit latching onto Sam. He packed with more urgency as the need to reach his friends and surrogate family nearly overwhelmed him. He dialed John's number and rushed out the door, swearing under his breath when the call went straight to voice mail. "Dammit, Johnny, this isn't the time to have your phone turned off!" he hissed as he tossed his things into his SUV and climbed behind the wheel. He flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the seat then started the vehicle. Within five minutes he was on the road and headed to San Francisco.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

John stared up at the dark house with its broken shudders and sagging porch. The rusted fence blocked his way, but did not succeed in holding back the weeds that infested what must have been a grand lawn in its day. The weeds crept their way outside of the fence and along cracks in the brick sidewalk that John now stood upon. He wanted to go inside, to find the spirit who had hurt his son and send it straight to hell, but he knew better than to go into the situation alone and without the proper knowledge of the situation. He glanced around the area, noting the few abandoned houses the dotted the block. This area had long been forgotten, the cost of even ripping down the houses probably more than the land itself was worth to anybody. So now, the houses stood dark and rotting, holding who knew what secrets behind their walls. John didn't care one bit about the other houses secrets. There was only one secret he wanted to know and he would do whatever he could to find out what it was.

Reluctantly, John turned from the house and trotted to his truck. He climbed up behind the wheel then reached for his phone. The red blinking light alerted him that his phone was dead and he tossed back onto the seat with a murmured "Shit" before he brought the truck to roaring life. He needed to get to his boys, to see what damage the spirit had done to his youngest. He needed to end this thing before any further harm could come to the boy who'd already suffered way more than any person should ever have to. He drove down the darkened streets, happy with the time he had made in getting there. He was hours ahead of schedule, thanks mostly to a lead foot and a trip free of any highway patrol officers to slow him down.

Twenty minutes later found John pulled up outside the motel, his truck pulled neatly in beside the Impala. He dragged himself from the truck with a tired sigh then reached in for his phone and duffel bag. He walked to the room his boys were in and knocked firmly on the door. Thirty seconds later he could hear movement inside the room then finally the door cracked open and a questioning eye peered out from the darkness. The eye widened and the door pulled fully open.

"Dad," a relieved voice said as the large, bedraggled man pushed his way inside.

**That's it for now! Dad is there and Caleb is on his way. Wonder how John will handle the news that Caleb has for him. How will the brothers react? We'll see :D Thanks for reading!**

**Cindy**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi all! First off, thanks to all the reviews that keep coming in for my story. I truly appreciate each and every one of them! So glad you are enjoying the story. I tried to get to this chapter late May/early June, but work just wouldn't allow it. Things are slowing down for the month so I was finally able to work on it. Yay! There's action in this chapter, but not really any Sam...he's there, just very sleepy :D I promise though that the next chapter will be very Sam heavy. So, how about we get on with the story!**

**Cindy**

"_Dad."_

John nodded as he pushed into the room, his dark eyes immediately moving to the bed furthest from the door. "How's your brother?" he asked, his duffel bag landing with a soft thud on the thick carpet.

"He's doing okay, I guess. Pretty scared though…same as Dean and me," Daniel answered in a rushed whisper. He glanced over at the other bed where Dean was pulling himself up, his green eyes blinking then widening when he saw his father standing at the foot of the bed.

"Dad…you're here," Dean said as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

John smiled in the dim light and moved toward Sam's bed. "I made good time," he answered with a shrug. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to gently finger a bruise on Sam's cheek. "He been sleeping a lot?"

"I gave him some pain pills a few hours ago. Kid didn't want them, but I could tell he was hurting," Dean answered as his gaze shifted from his father to his baby brother.

"Good. He should be out for awhile. Will give us a chance to talk," John said. He rose from the bed and moved to the counter where a fresh pot of coffee sat waiting. He poured himself a cup then turned to his sons.

"What did Caleb find out? Anything?" Daniel asked softly.

"Why don't you both sit down and we'll talk," John instructed as he took a seat at the small table.

Daniel pulled up the other chair while Dean sat down on the end of Sam's bed, careful not to awaken his exhausted brother. Once both brothers were settled, John began to speak.

"It seems Sammy has drawn the attention of the spirit of a magician," John started. "The Magnificent Manfredo to be exact," he added with a smirk.

"What? A magician? What would the spirit of a magician want with Sammy?" Daniel asked as he nervously snuck a quick look at his baby brother.

"I don't know for sure, but…" John started before he heaved a sigh and took a quick sip from his coffee.

"But? What is it, Dad?" Dean asked.

"Well, this magician was a pretty bad guy from what Caleb found out," John answered.

"Why? What did he do?" Daniel asked.

"Apparently, he kidnapped the son of a rich, prominent man back in 1904. Took him right from one of his performances. The kid got away and the magician disappeared that night and was never seen nor heard from again," John replied.

"Okay…so that still doesn't explain why he's latched on to Sammy," Dean said.

"Yeah, I know. Maybe somehow this magician thinks Sam is this kid he took and now he wants him back." John cast his gaze to his youngest and took a deep breath. The kid looked pale and oh so young and all the man wanted to do was whisk him away from San Francisco and never look back.

"You know, Sammy said he's been having nightmares about a faceless, caped figure. Don't magicians usually wear capes? At least way back then they did, I think," Daniel offered. "And that thing said that Sam had killed him, that he destroyed his dream or some stupid shit like that. It said that now that he was back, Sam would serve his purpose. I just don't get it though…why would it think Sam was the kid?"

"I don't know, Daniel. Hopefully Caleb will have more for us once he gets here," John said.

"Sammy's been having these nightmares before we ever went into that house. How the hell could they be connected with this freakin' magician?" Dean asked warily.

"Didn't he come up here for his birthday? He and a bunch of his friends?" Daniel asked, his eyes suddenly widening.

"Yeah…I remember him saying something about it," Dean replied.

"You think maybe they went to that house?" John asked.

"I don't know. Sam never said anything about going to a creepy old house. He would know better anyway," Daniel offered.

"Well, that would maybe explain things a little," Dean said.

"I guess we'll have to wait until the kid wakes up so we can ask him," John said. "Now, how about you two get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on Sammy."

"Dad…you've been driving for almost two days straight. You need to sleep," Daniel said as he eyed his father with concern.

"No…I need to keep watch on Sam. Think this thing through. No way I'm gonna be able to sleep…at least not until Caleb gets here with more information."

"Dad…" Dean started.

"No arguments. You two get some sleep…you both look like crap. I'll wake you when Caleb gets here."

"Yes, sir," Daniel said softly as he moved toward the bed opposite Sam's.

Dean followed suit and within minutes, both brothers were sound asleep leaving John to watch over all three of his boys. The man knew they had a long road ahead of them. Not only did they need to find out why Sam was the target, but they also needed to find out what was holding the spirit in the house and how to find whatever it was so they could destroy it and send the evil magician to hell.

**sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn**

Caleb arrived two hours after Dean and Daniel fell asleep. He stumbled into the room when John opened the door, his less than silent arrival waking both of the elder Winchester brothers. Sam slept on despite the disturbance, his slumber a testament not only to the power of the pain pills he'd been prescribed, but also by the sheer exhaustion he was under. Caleb eyed him with concern before accepting the hot, steaming cup of coffee that John thrust at him. Once Dean and Daniel we up and out of bed, the four men crowded around the small table in the room, their voices lowered as not to disturb their youngest.

"The squirt looks like he's seen better days," Caleb offered as he settled his backside against the wall, his tired eyes once again falling upon the sleeping Winchester.

"Yeah…he has. He's seen worse too, so I guess we can be thankful for that," John said. "So, what do you have for us, Caleb? Please tell me this is going to be an easy hunt."

"Um…sorry, Johnny, wish I could say it was going to be easy, but…"

"But what?" Dean interrupted, the young man eager to hear what his friend had to say.

Caleb glanced at the younger man and sighed. "I don't think you're going to like it," he said.

"Just tell us, man. We gotta know what we're up against here," Daniel said.

"Okay…but you aren't going to like what I have to say. You probably won't even believe me," Caleb replied.

"Caleb…spit it out," John grumbled impatiently.

"Okay…here goes," Caleb breathed out before taking a sip of coffee. "So…how do you all feel about reincarnation?" he asked.

"Reincarnation? What are you getting at, Caleb?" John hissed as he lifted his dark eyes to glare at the younger hunter.

"Just hear me out, Johnny. I think that's what this may all be down to," Caleb answered.

"Wait…you think that Sam is reincarnated? Is that what you're saying?" Daniel asked suspiciously. He glanced over at his younger brother and could see the disbelief that he felt reflected back at him in Dean's green eyes.

"I think that maybe he is. It all fits and if I'm right, this magician has latched onto Sam because he is in essence the same young man he kidnapped back in 1904."

"You're frickin' crazy, Caleb. Sam is Sam, nobody else!" Dean snapped as he brushed his hand roughly through his messy hair.

"Just listen, okay? That's all I ask. Listen to what I've found out then you decide what you believe."

"Fine…tell us what you know," John said.

Caleb nodded, took a sip of coffee then set his cup down on the table. "Samuel Anthony Worthington, born May 2, 1883. Tall and lanky, muscular, long shaggy dark hair. Kind, gentle and studious. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, Caleb…it sounds like Sammy…we get it. Now who the hell is Samuel Anthony Worthington?" Dean hissed.

"He is the young man who the Magnificent Manfredo kidnapped that night….the night that the magician disappeared, never to be seen again."

"So, because this kid has the same birthday and name as Sam, you think that Sam is his reincarnation?" Daniel asked, the young man not convinced.

"Move forward in time to May 2, 1983…Lawrence Memorial Hospital in Lawrence, Kansas."

"The day Sammy was born…so?" Dean asked.

Caleb blew out a breath and glanced at each set of eyes watching him. "Yes, the day Sam was born…in the hospital that Sam was born in."

"So?" Dean asked again.

"So…a death took place that day also, in that hospital. Samuel Anthony Worthington passed away on his 100th birthday at Lawrence Memorial Hospital."

"No way. It's got to be just a coincidence. Sammy can't…" Dean started, but was cut off when his father spoke.

"What time did Samuel Worthington die? Did you find that?"

"Dad…"

"Quiet, Dean," John commanded then turned his attention back to Caleb. "What time, Caleb? Do you know?"

Caleb looked through the notes he had set on the table then looked up at John. "It says the time of death was 4:26 am," he answered.

John sucked in a quick breath and dropped his eyes to the table. "Son of a bitch," he hissed under his breath.

"Dad?" Daniel asked warily.

John looked up and sighed. "Sammy was born at 4:26 am," he simply said. He turned his gaze to his sleeping son, his stomach knotting at the implications of what Caleb had found out. Things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated and John wasn't sure how they were going to get out of this one.

"So…you think Caleb is right? Sammy is reincarnated from this Samuel Worthington dude?" Dean asked.

John stood from the table and brushed his hand over his face. "I think there are way too many similarities for this to be all a coincidence," he said as he moved to the bed and sat down next to his youngest son.

"So what do we do now?" Daniel asked.

"Well, there is very little known about what really happened that night. Why did the magician kidnap this Worthington kid in the first place? What were his intentions? What happened to the magician?" Caleb answered.

"How the hell do we find that shit out? This was a hundred years ago!" Dean hissed as he began to pace the room.

"We go to the house and we search it. There may be something there that will tell us what the magician was after," John said softly from where he sat next to Sam.

"What about family? Is there any of Samuel Worthington's family left? Maybe he left a journal or something," Daniel offered.

Caleb nodded and picked up the notes he had brought with him. He fumbled through the sheets of paper until he finally found what he was looking for. "His daughter died ten years ago, but he has a grandson still alive and who just happens to live here in San Francisco at the family home," he said.

"Okay, then we need to split up. Caleb, you and I will go to the house and find anything we can that this magician may have left behind. Daniel, you go talk to the grandson. See what you can find out from him," John said. Finally, they had something they could go on…something that could lead them in the right direction.

"What about me?" Dean asked.

"You stay here with Sammy. I don't want him anywhere near any of this. You keep him here and keep him safe," John instructed. He smiled when Dean nodded then he looked down at his sleeping son. He tenderly brushed the hair from Sam's eyes then carefully stood up. "Daniel, you and Dean run and get us some breakfast. Caleb and I will stay here and keep an eye on Sam."

"Yes, sir," Daniel said. Ten minutes later and the brothers were pulling away from the hotel in search of food while John and Caleb stayed behind. They went back over everything that Caleb had discovered, John still reeling from the realization that Sam was reincarnated from someone who was born 100 years before him. What it all meant for Sam was a mystery, but John was determined that no harm would come to his son because of it.

**sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn**

Daniel drew in a deep breath as he rolled up his sleeves, his dark eyes glancing around at the dust covered boxes and various other treasures that lined the floors of the attic in the Worthington family mansion. It had been incredibly easy to gain entrance to the home and the trust of David Worthington, Samuel Anthony Worthington's only living heir. He had concocted a lie about how while researching old archives looking for interesting stories from San Francisco's past, he had found a small story about a young man who had been spirited away by an up and coming magician. The young man had gotten away and the magician had disappeared. That young man, Daniel had explained, was Samuel Worthington. David Worthington had seemed surprised at that, as if he had never heard of what had happened to his grandfather all those years ago, but to Daniel's relief had allowed him to go to the attic where most of Samuel's things were stored. Now, all Daniel had to do was rummage through the boxes and hope that the man had left a journal or something to let them know exactly what had gone down that night in the magician's house.

It was two hours and twenty boxes later that Daniel hit the jackpot. He came across a dusty leather journal and upon opening it, he smiled when he saw the elegant scroll writing of Samuel Anthony Worthington. He paged through the book until he found the date he was looking for. When he read what Samuel Worthington had written, he couldn't get out of the house fast enough. It was all there. How he had been taken. How he had awakened to find he was a prisoner in the magician's home. The table he was laid out on, the array of candles and strange instruments on another table in the room. Daniel's eyes had widened when he'd read of the young man seeing the magician digging what could have only been a grave in the back yard. He read on about how Samuel had managed to get free of the room he was locked in and of how the magician had finally been killed by an accidental fall down the stairs. What really got Daniel's attention was when Samuel described how his father had commanded his men to take the magicians body and bury it within the walls of the basement.

"Shit…his bones are in the house," Daniel whispered as he carefully tucked the small journal down the back of his jeans. He covered it with his shirt and jacket then hurried down the stairs. He stopped when he was met by David Worthington.

"So, did you find anything of help to you, Mr. Dylan?" David Worthington asked.

"Unfortunately, I didn't find what I was hoping to. I'll still include your grandfather in my paper, but won't be able to fill in the gaps that the eyewitness accounts left. Thank you so much for allowing me to go through your grandfather's things," Daniel said, the young man feeling no guilt at having to lie and for his theft of Samuel's journal. If it helped them take care of the spirit and keep Sam safe then Daniel had no problem with what he had done. He shook David Worthington's hand then hurriedly left the mansion. A few minutes later he was in the Impala and heading back to the motel where hopefully his father and Caleb had even more information to add to his.

**sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn**

John gazed upon the large house before him with trepidation. It loomed dark and foreboding before he and Caleb and though he knew they would be better off to have more back up than just the two of them, he also knew they did not have that luxury. He and Caleb were it and they would get the information they required because there was no other outcome that was acceptable. Sam's safety and very life hung in the balance and they would stop at nothing to protect him. The men glanced at each other then quickly made their way to the front porch. They each had duffel bags slung over their shoulder and a shotgun filled with rock salt in their hand. They knew without a doubt that they would not be able to slip inside and search the house without trouble from the spirit, but they came fully prepared. They would search each room, blocking the entrance with salt and if the bastard spirit managed to get inside, they would blast it with rock salt. With one last look at each other they pushed through the door and stepped into the darkened entryway.

John indicated with a tip of his head to go into the room to his left. The hunters stepped in and each rushed to block all possible entry spots with salt. They thoroughly checked the room to no avail before cautiously moving across the hall to the next. They covered the first floor in under an hour with no appearance by the spirit then moved quickly up the stairs to the second floor. They worked their way down the long hall and it was in the last room at the end where all hell broke loose. The hunters entered the room and immediately felt the atmosphere change. Before even one salt crystal could be placed, Caleb was picked up and thrown across the room, his back making contact with the far wall with a sickening thud. His body dropped to the floor and before the young hunter could get to his feet he was picked up and thrown again, this time his body remaining still after it crashed to the dusty floor. John wasted no time in raising his shotgun, but he couldn't see the spirit to shoot it.

He inched his way toward his fallen friend then turned and stood between Caleb and the threat that loomed large, though unseen in the room. Without warning, his shotgun was yanked from his hands and tossed to the opposite side of the room. John's eyes widened as the spirit took form before him. Inky black, it formed the shape of a man in what appeared to be a long cape. There were no features that John could see as the shape moved toward him. As carefully as he could, he unzipped his duffel bag, his eyes never leaving the pulsating form. As the spirit moved closer, John's hand curled around the salt container in his bag. When the spirit was a few feet away, John whipped the container from the bag while releasing the lid and in one graceful sweep of his arm, he dispelled the spirit with salt. He wasted no time to cover his ears as the spirit's rage filled scream filled the room. He had to get Caleb up and out of the house before something worse happened to them both.

John rushed to help a now semi-conscious Caleb up from the floor before the spirit could take form again. He nearly had the stunned hunter on his feet when he was grabbed from behind and tossed like a ragdoll onto the floor. Before he could get to his feet he was lifted and shoved against the wall, the spirit once again taking form and floating mere inches from him. He could almost make out a face within the shadow and that face moved toward him then moved over his own face then down to his chest and back. The shadow oozed over his and he heard a low, husky whisper in his ear.

"_You smell of the boy. You and those others took him from me. He will come to me! He is mine and you will not take him away from me again."_

John pushed against the invisible force that held him, but his strength was no match for the spirit. He curled his lip as he whispered his own response. "You will never touch my son. He is not yours and he will never be yours. I will send you to hell before I let you touch him ever again," he hissed venomously.

"_He will serve his purpose to me. He will pay for what he did to me and I will live again."_

John snarled at that and struggled even harder to get free. The spirit pressed harder against the man until John found it hard to breathe. As his vision started to fade all that John could think of was that he could not fail his son. He had to get free, but fighting was useless. The spirit was too strong and just as his world began to turn black, a loud bang rang through the room and he found himself falling to the floor. He gasped in a deep breath and looked up to see Caleb, shotgun in hand, standing shakily in the middle of the room. He rolled to his stomach and pushed up onto his hand and knees. He felt an arm wrap around his middle and began to struggle to his feet. He lifted his eyes just slightly and that's when he saw it. A portion of the floorboard next to him was loose and he stopped trying to get to his feet, reaching out for the floor board instead. Caleb tried to pull him up, but John shoved him away as he grabbed the floorboard and pulled with all his strength. The wood gave way easily and John peered into the space below. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his penlight then shown it into the hole. He smiled when he saw what appeared to be a book wrapped in old, deteriorating fabric. He reached in and grabbed the parcel then pulled it from the floor. He looked up at Caleb then pulled himself to his feet.

"What is it, Johnny?" Caleb asked.

"Hopefully what we came here for," John replied gruffly.

"Well, we can't stay here to find out. That freak ass spirit is gonna be back sooner than later and we need to be gone before that happens."

"I need to make sure, Caleb. I'm not leaving here until I have what I came for," John hissed as he ripped the fabric from around the book.

"Johnny…"

"No! That thing means to take my boy from me!" John shouted before he carefully opened the book. "Hold the light for me," he commanded as he thrust the penlight toward Caleb.

Caleb glanced nervously over his shoulder then grabbed the light and shone it on the book. "Can you tell what kind of book it is?" he asked after a few moments.

"It's a spellbook," John replied without looking up. He opened the book further in at a page marked by a small bookmark. He quickly read the page then looked up at his friend. "Son of a bitch," he whispered as he suddenly began to move toward the door.

"What, John?" Caleb asked as he followed quickly behind.

John came to his shotgun, leaned over and picked it up without even slowing down on his rush toward the door. "I think the magician meant to use a spell on Samuel Worthington. We have to get out of here first, then we can talk about it!" John readied his shotgun as he hurried out of the room with Caleb right on his tail. They reached the top of the stairs, but stopped suddenly when the spirit appeared on the landing below. It swiftly moved up toward them, but John was ready this time. He fired off a shot and dispelled the spirit then both men practically flew down the stairs. The spirit appeared again, it's scream causing both men the cringe, but Caleb took care of it this time and a minute later they were at John's truck, both wheezing as they tried to catch their breath.

"Shit, Johnny...what the hell?!" Caleb gasped.

John took a deep breath then moved to the driver's side of the truck. "Just get in, Caleb. We need to get back to the boys!"

Caleb watched as John pulled himself up into the truck then scrambled to get in as the engine roared to life. "What is it, John? What's in that book?" he asked as John peeled away from the curb.

John looked over and shook his head. He turned his gaze back to the street and blew out a breath. "It's a spell to not only gain whatever the spell maker desires, but also for eternal life," John finally answered.

"Okay…but why did it need Samuel Worthington? And now Sammy?"

"Because it…the spell calls for a sacrifice. I didn't read it all, but I did read one thing. The sacrifice has to be male and not yet 21 years of age. Samuel Worthington, according to your research, was one day shy of his 21st birthday and…and Sammy has just turned 20. If the spirit gets ahold of Sam, it will finish what the magician started. We have to get back so I can study this spell."

"That spirit isn't going to get anywhere near Sam, John. All we need to do is find out how to permanently send it to the other side. There has to be something holding it here…"

"I don't think it's going to be that easy, Caleb."

"Why not?"

"Because…I think the spirit may have done something to Sam while it had him. We need to keep an eye on him at all times. I think that the spirit may be able to control Sam in some way." John glanced over at his friend and drew in a weary breath.

"Why do you think that?" Caleb asked nervously.

"Something it said when it had me against that wall. It just rubbed me the wrong way."

"What did it say?"

John sighed and looked back to the street. "It said that Sam would come to it. I don't know…just seemed strange, like it knew Sam would come," John answered.

Caleb nodded as he bit at his bottom lip. "That fucker ain't touching the kid again, John. It'll never get the chance," he said, his voice low and sure.

John nodded this time, a small smile curling at his lips. No more words were spoken as they drove through the streets of San Francisco. Finally, they pulled up to the motel. John felt a surge of relief when he saw the Impala parked in front of their room. That relief was short lived, however, when the door opened and Daniel stumbled out, his arm wrapped around a barely conscious Dean. Daniel met John's gaze and John knew in that moment that everything had just gone to hell.

**Dun dun dun! Hmmm...wonder what happened? Tune in next time to find out :D I will work as hard as I can to get the next chapter out soon. Thanks for reading!**

**Cindy**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back! So, I was going to work on this chapter while I was on my two week vacation. I realized as I started that some of the keys on my laptop are sticking, making it nearly impossible to work on, so I waited until I was back at work and during breaks and slow times this week I managed to get the next chapter completed! Yay! Once again, thanks to everyone for sticking with me on this even though the updates are coming slowly. Thanks for your kind words you send me...they are what keep me going! So...I shall let you read!**

**Cindy**

_That relief was short lived, however, when the door opened and Daniel stumbled out, his arm wrapped around a barely conscious Dean. Daniel met John's gaze and John knew in that moment that everything had just gone to hell._

John rammed on the brakes, shoved the truck into park and jumped from the vehicle before Caleb could even comprehend what was happening. John rushed to his sons, his eyes moving over the both of them looking for any obvious injuries.

"What the hell happened!?" John cried as he put his hand to Dean's face. He looked over at Daniel, his gaze demanding an immediate answer.

"I…I don't know, Dad. I got back to the room and the door was wide open. I went in and he was just…Dean was lying on the floor out cold!" Daniel responded, his voice shaking as he appeared to be almost in tears.

John gasped as he let go of Dean and ran toward the motel room. He just reached the door when Daniel's voice called out to him.

"He's not there, Dad. I…I looked, but he's not there. Sammy's gone," Daniel cried brokenly. "Someone took him…hurt Dean and took Sammy. I'm so sorry, Dad…I'm so sorry I wasn't here to stop them!" Tears did make their way down Daniel's cheeks this time as he gazed imploringly at his father.

John shook his head then stepped into the room, the man making his own search before returning to his sons. Daniel and Caleb had Dean sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, his head hung low as his hand gingerly rubbed the back of his head. John pushed past the two concerned hunters and knelt before his middle son.

"Dean," John said softly as he once again placed his hand on Dean's face. "What happened?"

Dean slowly lifted his head and blinked several times at his father before recognition finally dawned on him. "I…I don't know. I was in the bathroom and when I came out…he…Sammy wasn't in bed. I saw a reflection in the picture of someone behind me, but…but before I could turn around someone hit me. I never saw them and then I wake up with Danny dragging me out of the room," he answered groggily. Suddenly, his eyes went wide and he lurched to his feet which turned out to be a bad idea as his legs gave way beneath him and three sets of hands grabbed at him to keep him from hitting the asphalt.

"Dean! Stay down, boy! You got a hell of a lump on your head!" Caleb shouted as he helped to once again situate Dean on the car seat.

"Sammy…have to check on Sammy," Dean cried weakly as he fought the hands that held him.

John sighed as he lifted Dean's face and met his gaze. "He's gone, Dean. He isn't in the room," he said softly.

"Wh-what? But…oh God…they took him! I let them take him!" Dean cried despairingly.

"No, Dean…I don't think so," John said.

Dean's eyes widened as he stared at his father. "What do you mean? I left him alone to take a shower and now he's gone! This is my fault! What if they've hurt him?"

"Dean…there is no sign of a struggle in that room. I think…I think it was Sam who knocked you out. I think he left on his own," John explained.

"What?" Daniel asked as he stared with astonishment at his father. "Why would Sammy knock Dean out?"

"He wouldn't…at least not of his own free will, but…" John started, his voice trailing off as he saw the disbelief in his son's eyes.

"What do you mean, Dad?" Daniel asked.

"I found a spell book at the mansion. I think that the spirit did something to Sam when it had him. I think that it can control him somehow," John finally said.

"Son of a bitch! He's probably on his way or already at that frickin' mansion!" Dean exclaimed as he once again tried to stand. He growled when the other hunters kept him firmly in place. "Damn it…let me go!"

"Just take a few minutes to get your bearings, Dean," John said calmly.

"We don't have a few minutes, Dad! We have to get to Sammy before that freak does something to him!" Dean cried.

"We will, but you aren't going to do your brother any good if you're falling over. You need to stay at the motel while we…"

"Like hell I'm gonna sit here! He's my brother…my responsibility and he went missing on my watch! I ain't staying here…I don't care what you say!"

"Dean…"

"No, Dad! I'm going!"

John sighed and shook his head. It was at times like this that he almost regretted putting so much responsibility onto his elder sons to take care of their baby brother. It was also times like this that made him overflow with pride. He met Dean's eyes and smiled. "Fine…but you will stay by one of our sides at all times…"

"Dad…I'm not a kid!"

"No, you aren't, but you are concussed and I'm not going there to have to rescue two of my sons! Take it or stay here!"

"Fine," Dean mumbled.

"Fine. Now let's get inside and figure this thing out…"

"Dad, we need to go now. Sammy could already be there," Daniel protested.

"We can't go in blind. We don't even know what's holding that bastard here," John said in response.

"I do…I know what's holding him," Daniel replied.

"What? Did you find something at the grandson's house?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah…I found Samuel Worthington's journal. According to it, the magician is buried in the walls somewhere in the basement," Daniel answered.

"So…what are we waiting for? Let's go torch this sucker and get Sam away from that friggin' house!" Dean exclaimed as he pushed to his feet, the young man steadier on his feet than he had been a few minutes prior.

John glanced from one son to the other then nodded. "Get any weapons from the room. We'll look over the spellbook and journal on the drive there. We'll take the Impala," he said as he moved toward the motel room.

Ten minutes later and the hunters were on the road, barreling toward the mansion where they knew their youngest member had gone. Caleb studied the journal and after a few minutes he looked up and over at John. "I think I may know how this all happened," he said.

"What do you mean?" John asked with a quick glance to his friend.

"In his journal, Samuel Worthington wrote that before the magician died he swore he heard him whisper something. It's possible, or probable I should say that if the magician was going to cast a spell to live for eternity and whatever else it was he wanted, that he probably cast a spell before he died to assure that the soul of his captive would find another body to inhabit. I'm not 100% sure about this, but it seems likely. Once Sam was close to the mansion, like when he came here with his friends, something in his soul was awakened…something the magician put there," he explained.

"So, could whatever this was force us to take all of the turns we took and then make the Impala die right in front of that house?" Daniel asked skeptically.

Caleb turned to look over the seat at his younger friend. "It's possible I guess…if the magician was as strong of a spell caster as it appears. He could have even forced a part of his own soul into Samuel."

"This is so screwed up! We need to get to Sam and we need to get to him now!" Dean cried.

"We will, Dean. We'll get your brother and we'll send the magician to hell where he belongs," John said with all the conviction he could muster. Inside though, his stomach was churning at the implications. If in fact a part of the magician was inside of Sam, what would happen to him once the magician was sent to hell? Would anything happen to him or would he even notice? John sucked in deep breath and slowly let it out. He couldn't allow himself to think of anything else right now except finding his son and sending the son of a bitch who was trying to hurt him back where he belonged.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

Sam stared blankly up at the dark house, a sense of unease and fear building in his stomach as his feet moved him involuntarily toward it. His mind was his, but his body was being controlled by something he didn't understand. He could feel this something pushing at his brain, making him move forward even though all he wanted to do was turn and run the other way…run back to the motel where he knew his brother lay unconscious. "Dean," Sam whispered as tears pooled in his eyes. He had hurt his brother, but he couldn't comprehend why. He didn't understand why he did what he did or why he left Dean unprotected and came to the place of his nightmares. He couldn't possibly know that he was being controlled even though he could feel that his body wasn't his own at the moment. He tried as hard as he could to fight whatever held him, but he couldn't stop himself from climbing the sagging steps up to the porch, nor could he stop himself as he slipped silently into the house and disappeared into the darkness within.

Once inside, the door slammed shut behind him and suddenly, Sam was freed from the invisible hold that had forced him to come to this place. He immediately turned and tried frantically to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He spun back around when he heard a faint whisper, but he couldn't see anyone through the muted light that penetrated the filthy windows.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Sam called out to the shadows.

"_You have come back to me, Samuel. You are mine and now I will take what is mine and be reborn," _a voice whispered from the shadows.

"I am not yours! I belong to my family and you made me hurt my brother! I know you did!"

"_But you are mine, Samuel. You are in a borrowed body, but your soul belongs to me."_

"No!" Sam screamed, his eyes narrowed in anger as he searched the entryway before him. Suddenly, the shadows began to move, to seemingly flow toward him and Sam backed away, looking for a way out, but all the while knowing that in his weakened state he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight. Suddenly, the shadow as upon him, enveloping him in its darkness as it flowed over him. Sam could feel the cold tendrils of the shadow spirit touching the bare skin of his arms then his neck as it moved higher. He shivered as the shadow seemed to caress him and in the back of his mind he remembered this feeling from the first time the spirit had taken him. He could feel the coldness as tendrils slithered their way under his tee shirt and up his naked back and chest. He tried to fight it off, to break free from its evil hold, but he was no match for the spirit as it finally covered him until only the shadow itself could be seen. The shadow moved slowly toward the staircase now, taking the young man with it and all the while the same word was whispered over and over again.

"_Mine..."_

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The Impala came to a screeching halt at the curb in front of the mansion and all four hunters piled out of the car with a single intent in all of their minds…get Sam out and kill the spirit who had taken him. Daniel stayed close to Dean as they made their way to the house. John reached the door first and pushed his way inside the house. Once all four hunters were inside, John turned to the others and spoke.

"Daniel, Dean…find your brother. Caleb and I will search the basement for the magician's bones."

"Yes, sir," Daniel said as he took hold of his slightly swaying younger brother's arm.

Dean brushed his brother's hand away and gave the older man a biting glare. "I'm fine," he hissed as he moved further into the entryway.

"Boys, we have a job to do. You stay together and you find your brother and get him out of here," John snapped.

"Yes, sir," both brothers replied.

"Where do we start?" Dean asked softly as he green eyes squinted through the dim interior. As if in answer to his question, a scream suddenly reached their ears and all four men swung their eyes to the top of the staircase.

"Sammy!" Daniel shouted as he broke for the stairs, Dean right on his heels.

"Get your brother! Caleb and I will find this son of a bitch!" John screamed. He and Caleb ran down the hall that led off the entryway, frantically searching for the way to the basement while Daniel and Dean tore up the stairs as if their very lives depended on it. They ramped up their speed as another pain filled scream filled the air.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

Sam awoke confused and dazed, unable to determine where he was or how he'd gotten there. He was certain of one thing though…he was no longer in the motel room and he was completely alone. Wherever he was it was dark…and cold. The surface he was lying on was hard and rough and as he made a move to sit up he became painfully aware that he wouldn't be going anywhere. He realized with sudden fear that he was stretched out spread eagle, each wrist and ankle tightly secured to a corner of what he now realized was a large table. He grunted as he tried to pull a hand free, but all he got for his efforts was a sharp pain down his arm. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he made one other discovery. To his utter horror, he realized that he was naked. Shame and fear washed over him and he fought more frantically to free himself. Several exhausting minutes later he slumped back to the table feeling defeated and incompetent. His wrists and ankles were bloodied and achy from the injuries his struggles had caused and a deeper, more intense pain radiated from one arm. He realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that the cast that had been on his broken arm was gone and that his struggles had in all likelihood done more damage.

"Damn it!" Sam hissed. He tensed when he heard a soft whisper, his hazel eyes immediately searching the shadows. He drew in a quick breath when he saw a dark shape emerge from the corner and move toward him.

"_Shhh, Samuel. Do not fret…all of this will be over soon," _the dark form said as it reached for him. Sam gasped as it touched its hand to his bare stomach then slowly moved it up over his chest, its cold fingers ghosting over the bite mark left there all those years ago. The dark form seemed to cock its head and suddenly soft light filled the space as candles came to life around the room. With the light, Sam was now able to see the dark form more clearly. He couldn't see a face, but he could make out a hood that seemed to flow down into a long cape. Sam let out his breath when the form suddenly pulled away from him and moved to another smaller table that sat against the wall under a dark curtained window. Sam's eyes widened when he realized what was on the table. There were small vials filled with unknown liquids, black candles and piles of what appeared to be dried plants. Most disturbing however was the long bladed knife that lay beside the plants. The dark form picked up two of the small vials and the knife then glided back to the table where Sam was now desperately struggling to break free. The spirit placed the items it had brought onto the table near Sam's side then rested its cold hand upon his chest. Sam's struggles immediately halted as he found himself unable to move.

"_It is time, Samuel," _the spirit whispered as it picked up one of the vials. It removed the stopper and slowly began to pour the contents over Sam, beginning at his head and moving down until it emptied the vial over his stomach. It set the vial down then picked up the other and removed its stopper. After repeating the process of emptying the vial over Sam, the spirit placed both hands on him and spread the liquids over him. Sam shuddered as the spirit worked its way down his body, but gave a sigh of relief when it stopped just below his navel. His fear amped up when the spirit lifted the knife and began to softly chant. He watched helplessly as the spirit lowered the knife to a point just below his throat, its chanting drowned out by Sam's scream as it began to cut.

**Well, would you look at that! Another cliffy! Why do I keep doing that? Maybe it's because...I'm evil! Hahahahahaha! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will try as hard as I can to get the next one out as soon as possible. The beginning of the month is fast approaching and then I won't have any free time at work until the second half of next month...maybe I'll be able to work on it between now and the 1st. Fingers crossed! Take care all!**

**Cindy**


	9. Chapter 9

**So, I had such an awesome response to the last chapter, I was extremely motivated to get another chapter out! Yay me! It's not a long chapter, but I'm hoping you'll like it anyway :O) So, get reading!**

**Cindy**

Dean and Daniel Winchester were many things…sons, brothers, hunters…but they were first and foremost big brothers to their baby brother, Sam. Nothing in the world mattered more to them, not even their father. Oh, he was definitely up there, but Sam held a special place atop the ladder of importance in their lives. It was an unspoken rule…if it came down to Sam or anything or anyone else, Sam always took priority. It had been that way since the day their mother was ripped from their lives and everyone who knew the Winchesters knew this to be the case. Anyone who had even one brain cell functioning in their heads knew that anybody who threatened the youngest Winchester was going to go down, no ifs, ands, nor buts about it. Now, the Winchesters were a protective bunch…they'd lay down their lives for each other in a heartbeat, but when it came to Sam, that protectiveness was over the top…you so much as look at the kid cross eyed, you were buzzard bait. So, at this moment, with their baby brother's screams echoing through the hallway, ripping their hearts from their chests, the two elder Winchester brothers were beyond murderous. If the magician were flesh and blood, by the time they were done with him, he'd be merely a pile of ripped flesh, muscle and bone.

The brothers tore down the hall, kicking in any door that stood in their way, Dean's concussion all but forgotten and not slowing down the middle brother in the least. He had a baby brother to find and a spirit to take down and no concussion was going to interfere with that. The screams led the young men to the last room at the end of the hall and without any hesitation on either of their parts, they kicked through the door and burst into a scene of horror that would forever be imprinted on their brains. Sam was trussed to a table, completely naked, writhing in agony as the dark form of the magician leaned over him, carving into his chest with a wicked looking knife like their brother was a Christmas turkey. If there had been any rationale left between the two, it was gone the second they saw the blood that covered Sam's torso and heard him suddenly begin to sob, begging the spirit to stop.

"Get away from my brother, you fucking son of a bitch!" Dean screamed as he pulled his shotgun up to his shoulder and aimed it at the spirit.

The spirit spun toward the brothers as if it hadn't heard them enter the room. A blast from the shotgun dispersed the black form with nary a sound from it and the brothers rushed to the table where Sam lay, whimpering and writhing, seemingly unaware of their presence. They reached Sam and both had tears in their eyes as they saw the damage done to their brother. Most of the cuts weren't all that deep, save for a few, but the amount of blood that covered Sam's chest had the brothers concerned. It was however the tears that rolled down Sam's temples and the way he looked at them with such relief that broke their hearts.

"Dean…Danny…you came," Sam whispered as if he didn't have the energy to speak any louder.

"Hey, kiddo…of course we came. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?" Dean said as pulled his pocketknife out and began to cut at the rope around Sam's wrist.

"k," Sam whispered.

Daniel watched for the spirit, his shotgun ready, while Dean continued to cut Sam free. The eldest brother shot worried glances toward his two younger siblings and cringed whenever Sam would whimper or cry out in pain. When the spirit finally did reappear, a snarl curled the lip of the young man and he smiled gleefully as he sent the spirit packing once again with a shot of rocksalt, a screech of sheer rage filling the air as the spirit exploded in a flash of red/yellow light.

"You need to hurry, Dean! We have to get him out of here!" Daniel shouted as he spared a glance over his shoulder.

"I am hurrying, Danny! Do you see his clothes anywhere?" Dean shouted back in reply.

"Um…no…I don't see them!" Daniel answered, a sick feeling twisting his stomach as he thought about what this would do to his brother's already fragile emotions.

Sam whimpered again as Dean sat him up and Daniel moved to the side of the table and placed his hand on Sam's back to steady him as Dean whipped off his outer shirt then pulled his tee shirt over his head. Dean pressed the tee shirt to Sam's chest then gently took Sam's unbroken arm and guided his hand to hold the cloth in place. He noted with further anger that Sam's other arm was cast free and deeply bruised, indicating it had been further injured. He quickly put his outer shirt back on then with Daniel's help, lifted Sam from the table. Sam looked down upon his body and made a sound that further broke the brother's hearts. Dean tilted his head down in order to see Sam's eyes and smiled.

"Hey, it's okay, Sammy. Nothing we haven't seen before, little brother. We'll get you all covered up and then we can go, okay?"

Sam looked up through sweaty bangs and nodded. "'kay…sorry, Dean," he said softly.

"No sorries, Sam. You have nothing to be sorry for," Dean said as he took the shirt that Daniel had removed from his own back and now held out for his younger brother. He wrapped the shirt around Sam's waist and tied it snuggly using the arms. Once Sam was covered, Dean eased him around the table, his arm wrapped protectively around his back. Daniel came to Sam's other side and together, he and Dean started leading their injured brother to the door.

"'m sorry for hurting you," Sam whispered.

"That wasn't you, kiddo so don't you even worry about that. I'm fine," Dean said, his eyes watchful for the spirit's return.

The three brothers made it into the hallway, Daniel after making sure Dean had a firm hold of Sam, letting go so he could be ready for any surprises. They were halfway down the hall when suddenly, Sam was ripped from Dean's grip and dragged back down the hallway before either brother knew what was happening. They couldn't see the spirit this time and their eyes widened as a terrified Sam was smashed into the wall beside the window at the end of the hall.

"No! You bastard! Leave our brother alone!" Daniel screamed, his shot gun ready, but his fear of hurting Sam and the fact that he couldn't see the spirit keeping him from firing a shot.

The spirit appeared then, its dark form taking shape beside Sam, one hand holding the struggling young man by the throat as it pressed him against the wall. The spirit turned it's faceless head toward the two elder brothers and hissed in rage.

"_He is mine! You will not take him from me again! I will finish the ritual and I will be reborn! I will be the greatest magician ever to walk this earth!"_

Dean scoffed as he glared heatedly at the spirit. "That's what this is all about? To be the greatest magician ever?" he asked incredulously as he and Daniel inched their way forward. "I have news for you, buddy, nobody cares about magicians anymore. They're all flashy and fake and nobody could give a rats ass about them!" he added.

The spirit snarled and hissed as the brothers moved forward. It pulled Sam from the wall and held his body in front of it as a shield. _"They will care again once I am reborn. They will not believe their eyes! They will be amazed and they will shout for more!"_

"They will laugh your ass right out of town, you pussy son of a bitch!" Dean hissed.

"Dean…take it down a notch," Daniel whispered from the side of his mouth. He then looked at the spirit and smirked. "You'll never finish your ritual. We won't let you. Your bones will be dust before you get the chance," he said with such venom his voice shook.

The spirit seemed suddenly fearful despite there not being a face to see. It moved toward the brothers hesitantly before coming to a stop a few feet from the window. It cocked its head as if tryng to listen or sense anything else in the house. Suddenly, it drew itself up taller and turned halfway away from them.

"_If that is the case, then the boy dies."_

"NOOOOOOOO!" both Dean and Daniel screamed as the spirit turned with lightning speed and thrust Sam away from it, the young man giving a startled yelp as his body crashed through the window and disappeared as he plummeted toward the ground.

**Yeah, you got it...another cliffie! Ha! So, will post the next chapter as soon as I can. Thanks so much for reading and for your comments 3**

**Cindy**


	10. Chapter 10

**You guys have no idea how hard I've been working to get as much of this story done and posted before I get super busy again at work! The busy time starts tomorrow so really wanted to get chapter 10 out before that so I wouldn't leave you with that horrible cliffy for a month! LOL So, once again, thank you all so much for taking time to comment on the chapter. You know I appreciate it! Okay then...onto chapter 10 :o)**

**Cindy**

"_NOOOOOOOO!" both Dean and Daniel screamed as the spirit turned with lightning speed and thrust Sam away from it, the young man giving a startled yelp as his body crashed through the window and disappeared as he plummeted toward the ground._

Daniel and Dean couldn't believe what had just happened. They both stood still, their bodies unable to move as shock and horror washed over them. The spirit had thrown Sam through the window two stories high then had blinked out with a loud screech. Where the spirit had gone to they could only guess, but at that moment they didn't really care. They had just lost their brother…the most important thing in their lives and nothing else mattered anymore. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few seconds, the two hunters were able to move. They ran to the window, both with tears streaming down their cheeks as they just knew that Sam couldn't have survived the fall. They peered out and gasped at the still form that lay sprawled below them.

"No…no, no, no! This can't be happening!" Daniel cried out as he staggered back from the window, his hand pressed over his mouth holding in the sob that wanted to break free.

Dean stood at the window, his eyes wide and full of tears. He knew Sam was dead, that he had failed him once again. He had let the spirit snatch his brother from his grip and now Sam was dead. "My fault," he whispered over and over as he continued to stare down at Sam. He couldn't see any blood, but he knew that the back of Sam's head had to be crushed from the fall…knew there would be shattered bones, most likely a broken spine and who knew what other injuries a fall like that would have inflicted. There was no cushioning grass or bushes, just dirt and rock and suddenly it was too much for the young hunter to bear. He couldn't look at Sam anymore, broken and still and…dead. He gripped the window edge with a shaky hand and began to push back when suddenly he thought he saw the fingers on Sam's hand move. His eyes widened as he leaned back out the window. He watched and then gasped as he saw the fingers move again. Sam was alive! He didn't know how it was possible, but Sam had moved and that meant that he wasn't dead.

Dean jerked his head back inside and swung around to see that Daniel had slid down the wall of the hallway and seemed to be in total shock. He rushed to his brother's side and dragged him to his feet. When Daniel didn't acknowledge him, he gave his face a firm slap. The slap did what it was intended to do as Daniel turned wide, dark eyes on his brother. "Wh-what was that for?" he sputtered, his voice breaking out in a sob.

"We gotta get down there…Sam's alive!" Dean shouted as he began to run down the hall dragging his older brother with him.

"What? He…he couldn't be!" Daniel cried, but even the thought that Sam could still be alive made him pick up his feet and run.

"I saw him move! He's alive!"

Daniel stared at the back of Dean's head, his dark eyes wide with hope. He picked up his speed and caught up with Dean as he reached the top of the staircase. They both flew down the stairs two at a time and ran for the front door. They couldn't spare a second searching for the way out the back, so they rushed through the front door, down the stairs and ran at full speed around the house. They found Sam and immediately dropped down on either side of him. He looked dead and Dean thought for a second that maybe he had imagined seeing Sam move his fingers. He reached out a shaky hand and gently touched Sam's cheek. A soft moan was his reward and he nearly burst out laughing with joy. Daniel pressed his fingers against Sam's neck and blew out a breath as he found a pulse.

"Oh my God," Daniel whispered as he leaned down and pressed a grateful kiss to Sam's forehead. He glanced up when Dean spoke.

"We have to get him out of here, Danny…away from this house."

Daniel shook his head as he straightened up, his and moving to rest on Sam's shoulder. "We can't move him, Dean…not until we know he hasn't injured his neck or spine. He may be breathing now, but that was a hell of a fall and I…I don't know how he even survived," he said.

Dean looked down at his baby brother and nodded. "I don't either," he said softly in reply.

Another moan brought both brothers attention fully back to their baby brother. Sam slowly rolled his head to one side then the other as his eyelids fluttered then opened to slits.

"Come on, Sam…that's it…open your eyes all the way," Dean encouraged as he took Sam's hand in his.

Sam moaned again as Daniel placed his palm against Sam's cheek. Sam turned into the touch and Daniel smiled wide as he leaned over. "Open those eyes, Sam. We need to see how many marbles were shook free," he coaxed.

Finally, after much coaxing Sam opened his eyes and stared with confusion up at his brothers. "Wh-what happened?" he asked, his voice barely over a whisper.

"You took quite a tumble out the window, Sammy. That freak ass magician threw you out when he realized he wasn't going to get what he wanted," Dean answered.

Sam's eyes widened as he stared up at the broken window high above them. "I remember. I…I should be dead," he whispered with awe in his voice.

"Yeah, well you're not…thankfully," Daniel said.

"But…how? I don't understand."

"Don't know, kiddo, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You're alive and by the way you're moving your legs and arms, I'd say your back is in one piece too," Dean said gratefully as he watched Sam fidgeting in the dirt.

"Do you remember anything about the fall, Sam?" Daniel asked.

Sam looked up at him and pursed his lips. He closed his eyes for a second then opened them once again. "I…I remember feeling like I was falling and then…it doesn't make any sense…"

"What doesn't make any sense?" Daniel asked when Sam's voice fell off into silence.

"It…it felt like something caught me…slowed me down so I didn't hit the ground so hard. But…how could that be?" Sam answered.

Dean and Daniel shared a glance then both looked around the dark lot and at that moment realized they had left their shot guns in the hallway in their haste to get to Sam. "Do you think the magician stopped his fall?" Dean asked as he met Daniel's gaze again.

"I don't know…I wouldn't think so. It didn't sound like he wanted him to survive the fall," Daniel answered.

"Can you help me up now?" Sam suddenly asked as he began to push himself up.

Dean and Daniel gently, but firmly pressed him back down onto the ground. "Stay still, kiddo. We need to check you out first. You were unconscious so at the least you probably have a concussion," Daniel said. The brothers began their triage, poking and prodding every square inch, stopping when Sam would hiss or groan when they came to a sore spot. They found a nice sized goose egg on the back of his head, but only a small cut accompanied it. After several painstaking minutes, they determined that yes, Sam had a mild concussion, but by whatever miracle had happened, he had no broken bones. The cuts on his chest still bled, but not nearly as bad as they had when they first found him tied to the table.

"We need to get him to the car so we can get him cleaned up," Daniel said, the elder brother smiling softly as he watched Sam's eyes blink tiredly. "Before he passes out again," he added.

Dean nodded and together they helped Sam to his feet. It took some time, but they finally reached the Impala. They laid Sam out on the back seat then Daniel retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk. Somewhere along the line, Sam had fallen asleep, blood loss and exhaustion making it impossible for him to stay awake. The brother's thought it was probably for the best as they cleaned the wounds on his chest, having to resort to stitching some of the deeper ones.

"He's gonna have more scars," Dean whispered sadly as he stared down at Sam's now bandaged chest.

Daniel followed Dean's gaze and nodded. "Yeah, but most of them should heal without leaving a scar…hopefully," he said in reply.

Daniel retrieved a blanket from the trunk and helped Dean cover their sleeping sibling. Sam's head was pillowed on Dean's lap and Daniel smiled with affection at his two younger brothers. He stood up outside of the open back door and glanced over the roof at the house. He sucked in a quick breath when he thought he saw someone standing to the side of the house just at the stand of dead trees and weeds that lined the east side. It was a shock to see someone there seemingly watching them, but the biggest shock to Daniel was that he knew who the someone was.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

John Winchester was growing frustrated and ever more fearful as the search for the magician's bones continued. He and Caleb had been searching frantically ever since they had reached the basement. They had wanted to run up the stairs with Daniel and Dean, the screams of their youngest ripping through them like swords, but they knew the best way for them to save Sam was to find the bones of the magician and torch them. They both stopped their search when they heard the faint sound of a shot gun blast, then started up again, even more urgently than before. They heard more blasts as they searched, but when the blasts ended, that's when panic had taken over and they had nearly left the basement in search of the three brothers. The spirit of the magician had other plans though as it appeared at the foot of the wooden steps. It laughed as it floated there, cutting them off from the house above.

"_You waste your time…the boy is dead," _the entity hissed as it moved slowly into the dark room.

John snarled as he lifted his shotgun and aimed it at the spirit. "You lie," he hissed.

"_Do I? When I realized what you were doing I had to make a choice…I knew if I left you alone and continued to pursue my property, you would find and destroy me. I decided that if I can't have the boy, nobody can."_

"You're lying! Sam is the only way for you to gain what you want! You wouldn't dare kill him!" John shouted in rage.

"_No, not the only way. I can always find another. I wanted Samuel because I wanted to make him pay for taking my dream from me. He tried to escape…he killed me. He should have been honored to sacrifice himself for me, but he was selfish! I may not be able to use him as the sacrifice, but I did get my revenge none the less. He pushed me down the stairs so I threw him out a window." _The spirit laughed then glided forward again.

"Nooooooooo!" John screamed as he pulled the trigger and blasted the dark figure with rock salt.

He spun around, his dark eyes wild, when a hand grasped his shoulder. "Johnny, it is probably lying," Caleb said, though his eyes betrayed the pain he felt at the idea of losing his young friend. "It must have sensed what we were doing and knew it had to take us out first," he added, as much to convince himself as to convince John.

The pain of loss didn't leave John's eyes, but a spark of something else, something almost primal was there too. He grabbed up his shovel and with Caleb watching his back, shot gun at the ready for the spirit's inevitable return, John began his search again. There was fire in his blood as he pounded the shovel along the walls, looking for any sign that a body could be hidden there, but so far all of the walls were infuriatingly solid. John spun his head around at the sound of the shot gun just in time to see the spirit explode in a flash of light. He nodded to Caleb then returned to his search. There was another shot gun blast a few minutes later as John worked his way through the cluttered basement. He came to a corner where the dirt had been dug away under the foundation of the house and dusty, antique crates and furniture had been shoved up in what looked like an effort to hide the tunnel. John began to drag the furniture and crates away, but stopped when Caleb cried out in surprise and pain. He spun around to see his friend sprawled on the dirt floor, not unconscious, but close. The spirit hissed as it moved past Caleb toward John. The hunter instinctively knew that he was close, but he had too much junk to move before he could see into the tunnel. The spirit had him cutoff, but John had his shot gun with him. All he needed to do was crouch down and grab it before the approaching spirit could reach him. The spirit had other plans and before John could reach his weapon, the dark form was upon him.

John gasped in pain as the spirit gripped him around the throat and lifted him into the air. It smashed him against a wooden beam, it's hold cutting off his air supply as it moved its head to within inches of his face. The spirit did not speak, just squeezed harder on John's throat until the hunter saw dark spots before his eyes. Any attempt to claw at the hand holding him was in vain as his fingers went right through the dark shape. His feet kicked at the support beam, but he was not strong enough to break the spirit's hold. As he began to lose consciousness he cursed his weakness and begged his Mary for forgiveness for failing their sons. A sudden boom sounded and without warning, John dropped like a stone to the dirt floor below. He thought absently that Caleb must have shot the spirit, but the face that appeared above him wasn't Caleb.

"Danny?" John gasped as he rolled to his side and began to cough.

"Dad! Are you okay?" Daniel cried as he crouched down at his father's side.

"Sammy…Sammy's dead," John cried softly, his dark eyes staring forlornly up at his eldest son.

"No, Dad…Sammy's alive," Daniel said.

"But..but the spirit…it said…"

"I'll explain later…just know that Sammy is alive."

With those words, John's strength seemed to return to him and he rolled onto his hands and knees in order to push himself up. Dizziness washed over him however and he nearly fell back to the ground. "Over there…behind those crates…I think the bones are there! Hurry, Danny…end this thing now!" he cried as he sat back on his hind end and leaned against the beam. Daniel nodded then handed his shot gun to John before rushing toward the crates. John nodded as he watched Daniel tear into the crates and furniture then he turned his attention to Caleb who was pushing his way to his feet. Caleb pulled his shot gun up and together the hunters waited for the spirit's return. They didn't have to wait long as the magician materialized with a screech of rage between the two hunters. John fired, sending the spirit away, only for it the reappear a few seconds later. The spirit was getting stronger, most likely out of desperation knowing they were getting close and John knew that Daniel would be its target. He would not allow it to hurt another of his sons. Caleb shot it this time, allowing John the time to get to his feet before it once again appeared, more furious than ever. It made a move toward Daniel, but John lunged forward and put himself between it and his son.

The spirit screeched and lifted its arms and suddenly the basement was filled with near gale force wind. Dirt from the floor filled the air, making it impossible to see, or too keep on ones feet. John squinted his eyes and pulled off another shot, hitting the spirit despite not being able to see. The wind died down long enough for John to reload more salt shells into the gun, but within seconds the spirit was back and intent on getting to Daniel. Together, John and Caleb kept blasting away until finally Daniel called out in triumph.

"I found them…they're here!"

John spun his head around and called to his son. "My pockets! Everything you need is in my pockets! Hurry, Danny!"

Daniel raced to his father just as the spirit reappeared. Its arm shot out and Daniel was thrown to the side where he hit the dirt floor with a dull thud. The spirit descended upon the downed hunter, picking him up and tossing him again. Caleb blasted the dark form as John raced to the tunnel and peered inside. He could just make out a pair of boots with dark pants so he pulled out his flashlight and shone it into the tunnel. The skeleton of the magician appeared in the beam of the light and it was apparent that the dead man had been shoved as far back as possible and scrunched into the small space. John hurried to empty the lighter fluid and salt onto the bones as the sounds of the struggle continued behind him. Finally, he lit a match, turned to look just as the spirit launched itself at him, then tossed the match onto the bones, relishing the euphoria of watching the spirit go up in flames before his eyes. It took a few moments for the screams of the spirit do fade away and the dust to clear enough for John to be able to see his friend helping Daniel to his feet. The elder Winchester pulled himself from the tunnel and rushed to his son's side.

"Danny…are you okay!?" John cried as he took Daniel's face in his hands.

"I'm fine, Dad," Daniel answered in a breathless whisper.

"Sounds like you got the wind knocked out of you," Caleb said with a slight grin.

"Yeah, being thrown across the room will do that to you," Daniel quipped.

"Been there, done that." Caleb glanced over at John and smiled, relief evident in his eyes. "Now, shall we get our asses out of this dirt hole or are we gonna spend the entire night here?" he asked.

"I vote for getting out of here," Daniel offered as he leaned over to retrieve his shot gun from where John had dropped it.

"Where's Sam and Dean?" John asked, his dark eyes watching his son's every move just to be certain the young man was okay.

"They're in the Impala. We patched Sammy up and then I left him with Dean to come help you," Daniel answered.

"Patch Sam up? What happened to him, Danny?" John asked worriedly.

Daniel looked at his father with sad eyes and sighed. "That son of a bitch had him tied up on a table in a room upstairs…completely naked and…and it carved up his chest pretty bad, Dad," he answered softly.

John swore under his breath after hearing what Daniel said, the father knowing that Sam would be reminded of his time with both of the Wilcox men. Rage and sorrow filled him at the thought of his baby boy being traumatized that way again and for an instant he wished the magician was back just so he could kill it again. He glanced up at Daniel when he remembered what the spirit had said to him.

"The spirit said that Sammy was dead…that he threw him out a window…"

Daniel paled at the memory and had to grab the banister to steady himself. "It did. We got Sam free and were taking him down the hall, but the spirit was able to get Sam away from us. It seemed like it all of the sudden sensed you and Caleb so it flung Sammy out the window and…and when we looked outside, he looked…he…"

John reached up and gripped Daniel's arm. "You said he's alive…that's all that matters," he said.

"But…he shouldn't be. There's no way he should've survived…we couldn't figure out how he escaped with only a bump on the head and some scratches and bruises, but then I…after we got him to the car and we patched him up I saw…I saw something and I knew how," Daniel said, fear in his dark eyes.

John stepped up beside his son and gently pulled him around to face him. "What did you see, Danny?"

"He was there…standing in the dead trees, watching us," Daniel replied.

"Who was watching you?" Caleb asked.

Daniel swallowed then took a deep breath. "The yellow eyed man…it was the yellow eyed man," he answered with a shaky voice.

**Well, at least I didn't leave a cliffy! LOL I truly hope this will hold you for a bit because I won't have time to write again until later this month. Thank you all for reading! **

**Cindy**


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